"You know Malfoy, I feel like something's off," Harry said, staring at Draco suspiciously over the fancy table centrepiece.
"Whatever do you mean Potter?" Malfoy asked, shining his brand new machete which he'd had personalised for the occasion. It's handle read: For the chosen one.
"I mean...I know we've only been at this wedding for 10 minutes but it feels like an awfully long time has passed. If I had to wager a guess I'd say...nearly four months."
"well," Draco began, placing down his machete to reload his handgun, "If I had to wager a guess I'd say there was most likely a terrifying pandemic that spread frighteningly quickly throughout the muggle world, which inhibited our creator from propelling our storylines any further. Now I suppose some sort of lockdown has been imposed, meaning the bitch is inside all day with nothing to do and has now decided to care about our sad little lives."
Draco was right.
Harry nodded and turned his head to the front of the room upon hearing a fork clink against a glass.
"Now that you are all seated," said the vicar who will remain undescribed as I can't be bothered to create a whole new character for a select number of chapters, "I will ask Richard Dobbeth E, our dashing groom, to say a few words."
The room broke into a polite clap (meaning every person seated simultaneously realised they had chlamydia.) (get it? because wordplay.) (because back in the day they used to call chlamydia 'the clap'. Or so they say) (they also say that if you have to explain a joke, it means it wasn't funny).
Dobby rose from his child footstool that was perched on the table beside Narcissa and cleared his tiny elfin throat.
"It be my honours and pleasures to sits here beside this wonderful woman, who's kindness knows no bounds. Who's beauty never dies. Who's intelligences never runs dry. Who's hole never stretches."
Draco grimaced. "I wish he wouldn't talk like that."
"You mean about your mum's puss?" Harry asked.
"No, with such awful grammar."
Narcissa did not seem bothered by her husband's fumbled words, as she reached out a hand to grip his raisiny one, and used the other to jerk him off silently.
"I will not be taking up too much of your time," Dobby said, and Draco sighed as he knew the elf to be a sex addict and a compulsive liar. "But I would like to read you a short passage from one of my favourite novels, 'The Hobbit.' Like I said I wont be taking too long, so I've chosen a specific section to be reading to you; it begins on the first page and ends a few lines into the last page. Chapter 1..."
Draco, seeing an opportunity for action, gestured to Bellatrix from across the room to follow him as he walked through to the building's kitchen.
She did, but it took a while considering she was wearing a dress made entirely of Grayback's fur with a 40-metre train.
Once the kitchen was filled Grayback's smelly hide, Bellatrix turned on Draco with ruthless abandon: "The Potter boy is still alive you useless twink, why haven't you dealt with him yet?!"
"The plan, Bella, is to lure him-"
"I don't give a flying fuck about the plan! Listen to me when I say I only came to this wedding to get my Gladrags on, get pissed out of my mind and spend the rest of the evening pounding whoever's a-hole I can find with my personalised strap on."
"Yes I understand that you- wait, why did you need a personalised strap on?"
She rolled her eyes. "To have it made into the shape of the dark lord's extra evil cock of course!"
"I heard the dark lord has a chode."
"And I heard you had a Hungarian horntail shaped birthmark on your arse but I'm not spreading it around am I?"
Draco gasped. "Who is making these false claims? It's shaped like a bloody welsh green for merlin's sake!"
"I don't care, you insolent cock destroyer. You either kill Potter in the next ten minutes or I'll do it myself!"
A pang of panic swept through Draco's body, which must have been excited at the thought of killing his sworn rival and absolutely wasn't gay regret. (which is very different to straight regret; gay regret tastes like poppers and oppression, straight regret tastes like too much media representation and robbing other minorities' cultures. Okurrr.)
"Alright, alright. I'll do it."
"Do what, Draco? Say it."
Draco swallowed. (Saliva, you filthy-minded trollup.)
"I'm going to kill Harry Potter."
YOU ARE READING
Two boys in a snake den
FanfictionA powerful and hard hitting lustful drama between some of the most prominent HP characters.
