Two boys in a snake den

We're all friends here

Harry watched Draco for a while, wondering what significance his peacock-inspired interpretive dance had to Dobby's recital of 'The Hobbit'. That is until Draco finally gave up mime communication and simply yelled: "Oi, scarhead! Get your thicc arse over here!"

Harry wondered how Draco managed to verbally communicate that the word 'thicc' had two c's before following Draco into an alcove of a bustling kitchen. 

"Listen Potter," Draco said, shaking slightly, "the thing is..."

"Yes?"

"Yeah, well, here's the thing," Draco was shuffling from side to side, trying to gain some kind of confidence, "what the thing is is-"

"Draco! Just spit it out. We're all friends here, right?"

Draco paled even more than usual (white ass pale ass dumb ass trash ass bitch), and breathed a heavy sigh. "That's just the problem, isn't it? Friends don't stab each other in the back. Physically or metaphorically." 

Harry felt a chill down his naked spine (having still neglected to find clothes) and finally noticed the polished machete in Draco's hands. "Wait....were you going to...to kill..."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, Potter, congratulations. You finally figured it out."

Harry, one hand on his heart and the other in his crack, gasped, "Draco Lucius Abraxas butt plug Abraham Lincoln Malfoy! I am so disappointed  in you!"

"Yes that's it, let me have it."

"I mean, yes  Dobby can sometimes be a bit annoying but other than stealing your mother from your father which subsequently caused Lucius' death, he's never done anything to you!"

"Merlin's saggy bollocks Potter! I might hate the bloody sex prawn, but it's YOU I was going to kill. Not Dobby. You." 

Harry was silent, his jaw working back and forth as he let this information settle. "So, you never wanted to learn parseltongue? Or go to the naked disco with me? And you never actually cared about Dean's portraits of my anus? You were just getting your murdery kicks!"

"Potter-"

"Don't touch me!" 

"I wasn't going to-

"Stay away from me you Bastard!"

"Potter I-"

"All this time I thought I  was the problem. I thought I pushed people away and refused to open up when all along it was you. It was always you." 

"Potter, why are you talking like we were in a relationship?" Draco asked, plucking a stray ostrich feather from his impeccable blazer.

"That's just what the women normally say in muggle films when they find out the scrawny, dehydrated, coke selling love interest was lying to them all along. You know, the kind of guy who stutters because he thinks it's charming and will shove a whole fist in his mouth when he's nervous? Wears pink once and everything thinks he's destroyed toxic masculinity? Normally played by Timothee Chalamet."

Draco blinked through his ferrety, but very sxc, lashes. "I don't know what any of those words mean."

"What, 'Timothee Chalamet'?"

"No, 'Masculinity'." 

At that moment a chef, who similarly to the vicar I will not describe as he only exists to move the narrative away from this conflict, entered the alcove. 

"Boys, I hate to interrupta whata looks a like a very heterosexual activitya, but a wolf with a massive train of fur is looking for a mister 'Larry Trotter'?" Said chef Linguini. 

Harry's brows furrowed. "We don't even know a 'Larry Trotter'."

Draco groaned, "Bellatrix is looking for us. She knows I'm not up to the job and she wants to kill you herself. We've got to get you out of here."

"Here," chef linguini said, "take a my clothes young man."

"That's genius!" Harry said, "I will disguise myself as a chef in order to escape!"

"Actuallya," said chef luigi, "I just didn't want to have to looka at your sloppy balls in the light of daya."

Draco nodded, grimacing, "it's the thought that counts. Thanks chef tortellini." 

Chef Ratatouille winked, "anythinga for my boys."

*

"Draco, where the flying fuck are you off to?" Bellatrix growled, already eyeing up Harry's feeble disguise in suspicion. 

The chef's uniform was far top baggy, so Draco had tried to style it out on Harry by taking apart the stitches on the trousers and shirt and sewing the garments into a modest chest to floor gown. Then, of course, he couldn't leave the hat untouched as it would throw off the entire outfit so he sacrificed a few of his own shoulder feathers, along with some loose crystals he always carried, and fashioned a simple but chic fascinator. The moustache, however, betrayed the entire look as it was hastily drawn on with black eyeliner. 

"I was waiting for Potter in the kitchen when I came across this lowly chef and was overcome with inexplicable desire. So, I simply put off the entire task which will most certainly disrupt the dark lord's plans for nationwide rule and render this entire day useless. I will now take the lowly chef into a dark room where he will proceed to fuck me until I can't remember my own name, come along now." Draco said, grabbing Harry by the shoulders to hustle him forward. 

"Who am I to judge? Have fun." Said Bellatrix and Draco breathed a sigh of relief, almost believing they were in the clear.

That is until Bellatrix turned around to face them again. "Hang on," she said, swishing her infinite fur gown, "what is your name, mister lowly chef?"

Beads of sweat formed on Harry's forehead, which eventually reached his upper lip and smudged his fake moustache. "I...a..do nota understand thisa english accenta." He said, in a flawless rendition of chef Sicilly's accent, which was mostly just a case of adding a's onto the end of every other word.

Bellatrix laughed. "My apologies, I will speak Italian only; Whata is a youra namea?"

Harry laughed nervously, "My name is a....Larry. Larry Trotter."

Bellatrix grinned. "Well, then," she said, addressing Draco now, "he's not who I'm looking for. Enjoy your afternoon Draco, I believe the sock doll sex puppet is just finishing his speech."

"See you around, Bella." 

And with that, Harry and Draco hurried away from the reception and back to the safety of Hogwarts. Draco wondered, briefly, how he would explain his failings to the Dark Lord. But with only two weeks of the school term left he would soon find out...

To be continued.

XOXO Gossip girl.