Fic: Three Halves Make a Whole (at least for the Malfoys) (H/D) CRACK

[wook77]

Title: Three Halves Make a Whole (at least for the Malfoys)
Author: wook77
Pairing H/D
Wordcount: 2848
Rating: R
Warnings: Crack
Summary: Draco is half Jewish, half Veela and half Black, the family, of course. Harry is confused. Of course, they're destined to be together.
A/N: Day 11 and 12 (cause I'm going to cheat and count the word count for two days). Also - beta'd by ficlette and janicechess. Please note that I mock fanon cliches, not people. If any of this rubbish reminds you of you, it's not meant. Yiddish is taken from here. Written for yodels who requested Yiddish speaking!Draco. Pink knickers idea stolen from unintendedmuse. Did I mention this was crack? Because it is. Completely and totally.



"Potter," Draco called out (because he wouldn't dare call Harry Potter 'Harry' until they'd shagged like rabbits later on in the story), "I don't mean to kvetch here but you're going about this Horcrux thing all wrong."

"Malfoy? What are you doing here?" Harry looked confused as he stared at Malfoy. "Kvetch? What the hell?"

"Never mind how I got here or why I had a change of heart, it's not important to the plot. The important thing here is that I've seen you schlepping about all over England and Scotland but not Wales or Ireland and I'm tired of reading a thousand stories of how you heroically find the Horcruxes when, really, if it weren't for Granger, you'd never find them. Let's face it, you're a schmuck, always have been, always will be." Draco walked over to Harry and grabbed the rucksack off his back.

"Malfoy, I don't mean to sound stupid--"

"Course you do, you're a yutz," Draco condescended with the patented Malfoy Smirk (trademarked and copywrited).

"But," Harry continued as if Draco hadn't interrupted, "you're speaking in tongues."

"One normally speaks with one's tongue. However, since Granger the Mudblood -- oh don't look so angry, dialogue in a story with me isn't complete until I call Granger a 'Mudblood', you get angry and then we shag against a wall. I'm not ready for that just yet as I've yet to explain that I'm speaking in Yiddish." Draco waved a lazy aristocratic hand before stroking his pointy chin.

"Yiddish? What sort of language is that?" Harry asked bemusedly (and, let's face it, Draco had a point. If it weren't for Hermione, he'd always sound this clueless.

"You're such a shagetz, Potter." Draco sneered the name (it's completely possible to sneer a word, no matter what one might think 'sneer' means), sounding suspiciously like Tom Felton in Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. "Yiddish is the language of the Jewish people, obviously."

"You're not Jewish, Malfoy." Harry looked about in confusion, as if the world had suddenly turned into a movie set and he'd forgotten his lines.

"Of course I am, Potter. I'm half Jewish, half Veela and half Black, the family, of course." Draco looked condescending, not that that was much of a change for him as the only time Harry had seen him without that perpetual sneer on his face had been that time Draco'd been speaking to Moaning Myrtle (who was enough to drive even someone as perpetually happy as Dennis Creevey to tears with her, well, moaning).

"That's three halves." Harry sounded like a lightbulb had sprung to life over his head, giving him a world-saving idea at the very last instant, just like he had back in First Year when he'd killed Quirrell with love or, at the very least, a sweaty palm.

"Of course there are three halves. I'm a Malfoy, you berk. We're much better than the rest of the world, besides being filthy rich. We can afford to have one and a half bloodlines."

"Just because you're rich doesn't mean that you can buy an extra half! Besides, you're a Pureblood prat, you can't be Jewish!" Harry paced as he yelled, his Chest Monster raging about inside of him at the injustice of Draco having three halves.

"Actually, it does. In addition, since we have more money than the Muggle Queen or that other lady, the one with all the initials, we own a few countries such as Bimini and Trinidad but not Tobago as that is far too plebian for my mother. Besides, if Finnigan can be Catholic, why can't I be Jewish?"

"Did you say Finnigan or Finnegan?" Harry was easily distracted by Draco's conversational gambit, just as he had been easily distracted by Ginny snogging Dean when he should really have been getting the memory from Slughorn the way Dumbledore had asked him.

"Finnigan, Potter. I realise that the world at large thinks his name is Finnegan but even I know it isn't. Why is it so hard to understand that I'm half Jewish, half Veela and half Black, the family, of course?" Draco hated repeating himself but for the sake of comedic timing, he was willing to do it.

"Veela? What did your family get up to?"

"That's for later, Potter, about the same time I start calling you 'Harry'. We have to solve the Horcrux mystery first." As he spoke, Draco dug around in the bag until he pulled out a small cup. "This? Is not a Horcrux no matter what the stupid balmalocha told you."

"Just when I started understanding you, you start spewing rubbish again. Balmawhata?" Harry scratched his head quizzically (as all confused people do).

"Dumbledore, Potter, was a balmalocha. It's someone that thinks he's an expert when, really, he's just a schmuck." Draco pulled a small coin out of the pocket of his skintight leather trousers that accentuated the body that had earned him the title of Slytherin Sex God. The sweating was horrible but it was worth it to land Potter, the most powerful Wizard since Merlin. "This, however, is a Horcrux."

"He wasn't an idiot! He was a great man! The Wizard that defeated Grindenwald and the only Wizard that Voldemort feared!" Harry's Chest Monster broke out once more as he yelled in a fit of Impetuous and Thoughtless Gryffindor Rage (trademarked and patented).

"Yadda yadda yadda, Potter. Look, just take the Horcrux and get rid of Moldie Voldie's piece of soul."

"How do I do that, Malfoy?"

"It's a coin; you flip it. Heads, the Horcrux is destroyed. Tails, the world ends." Draco shrugged while he continued searching Harry's belongings.

"So I just flip it? Tails and I destroy the world? What sort of odds are those?" Harry paused before he yelled out, "Why are you helping me? You hate me!"

"Too right, Potter, but that doesn't mean that I don't want you to shag me silly after we destroy all these Horcruxes. Or is it Horcrii? I can never remember the correct plural form. Doesn't matter. You'll just offer me your hand, I'll shake it and then we'll shag. But first? Flip the coin."

"I've no idea why I should listen to you but since you might know what you're doing and you might possibly be Marked though no one's sure but I did see you scratching at your arm and worrying about having your sleeve pulled up so I assumed that you were Marked just like I assumed you were a prat back in First Year and I wouldn't shake your hand..." Harry's voice trailed off. "Where was I going with that run-on sentence? Right, since you're obviously Marked, then it means you've talked to Voldemort and if you've talked to Voldemort, then you probably know what a Horcrux is since he'd obviously share that sort of information with you since your father did such a fantastic job with the diary and all. I guess I'll believe you." Harry felt out of breath after such a long series of run-on expositionary and plot explaining sentences.

"You've been studying with Granger on how to properly do an expositionary series of dialogue so the reader can follow along, haven't you?"

"After listening to her for seven years, it's about time some of her intelligence rubbed off on me." Harry stared at the coin before resting it on his thumb and giving it a flip. After all, he did want to get to the shagging although he had no idea he was gay until Malfoy had mentioned getting shagged against a wall. He debated the idea of getting shagged against the wall instead of doing the shagging but the author put the kibosh on that idea as there were some crazy fangirls out there that refused to contemplate Harry's possible bottom tendencies.

As the coin twirled in the air, both Harry and Draco stared at it. Harry finally reached out a hand and snatched it from the air just like he would have had it been a Snitch and he was riding a broom. He put it on the back of his hand and when he lifted his sweaty palm -- hoping that since it had been enough to kill Quirrell, it might be enough to kill this Horcrux as well -- saw that it was heads. It burnt into his hand, right over the scarring from Umbridge's quill -- the scarring that even Ms. Rowling herself seems to have forgotten about. It left a circular mark as he waved his hand around, trying to dislodge it before it finished burning a hole through his hand.

"Quick thinking, Potter. You'll need that hand later, you know. I refuse to wank myself when you're around." While Harry had been hinging the fate of the world on a flip of a coin, Draco had finished digging about in the bag and pulled out a small feminine hairclip.

"Let me guess, that's another Horcrux?" Harry sounded disbelieving.

"Nischt, Potter, it's for me. My hair is getting in the way as I know that you hated it when I wore it slicked back. Besides, Muggle gel was hell on my hair and caused split ends. Stupid Muggles deserve to get wiped out by the evil and powerful Dark Lord just for their hair products. Stupid Mudbloods, recommending Muggle hair products to me. They deserve to die as well for causing problems with my hair. That's why I really hate Mudbloods and Muggles. I don't really care about the dilution of the blood or any of that garbage." Draco clipped the small pink barrette into the hair that hung over his face and flashed a flirtatious grin when it stayed. "Much better. Now where were we? Oh, right, Horcrin or cruxen or something."

"I have no idea what you're going on about."

"I'll speak slowly for you. You are Harry Potter. You are the Boy-Who-Lived. You are meant to save us. You still following along, Potter?" Draco cocked an eyebrow while smirking and Harry wondered about the wiseness of rushing over and embracing Malfoy before snogging him senseless. Then he realised that they hadn't shaken hands yet so that might not be the wisest thing he'd ever done. Instead, he nodded, and Draco continued. "You have to destroy the Horcruxeseses. I'm here to impart my insider knowledge to you as you know bubkis about Horcrixions."

"Bubkis?" Harry parroted back.

"Out of everything I was saying, you fixated on that one word? The delay before I'm getting a well- earned shag is far too long. Let me simplify. You need to destroy these." Malfoy slithered out of his leather trousers to reveal a pair of lacey pink knickers.

"Why did you just take off your trousers?" At least, that's what he attempted to say but as he was too busy trying not to drool at the Slytherin Sex God encased in pink lace, it sounded more like "Eeeebitybobitybaloo."

"That is certainly gibberish, Potter. Now, look, you need to destroy these but let me take them off first as I wouldn't want to damage my bits. I'm far too attached to them." With that, Draco stepped out of the knickers and handed them to Harry. Harry couldn't help but be disappointed that Draco was wearing a pair of leopard print thongs underneath the knickers.

"Where did you get these?" Harry reached out with his wand and Draco hung the knickers on the end.

"From Voldemort, gedainkst?" That condescending and very familiar sneer that hadn't changed a bit since Draco had been on the train ranting on about proper Wizarding folk made Harry harden harder than a rock. In fact, his prick felt like a diamond except much less sharp and perhaps less angular and pointy.

"Gedawhat? Never mind, you know what? Forget I asked. What was Voldemort doing with frilly knickers and why were you wearing them?" Harry couldn't quite focus on anything other than the way the furry leopard print cupped Malfoy's jewels and Harry didn't mean the rings on his fingers or the feminine earrings dangling from his ears that he hadn't noticed until just now when it needed to be mentioned to make a point.

"I'll give you the short short version. Voldemort has a knicker fetish, likes to walk around in them. I thought everyone knew that. Trust clueless!Potter to not know something so vitally important to the plot. He stole these knickers from your mum the night she died, made them into a Horchucks. When he found that they fit him, he kept them and pulled them out on special occasions like Muggle killing sprees. After he was done using me as his pretty boytoy -- because everyone knows that a Malfoy is always willing to be shagged six ways to Sunday and seven ways to Monday -- I stole them from him and hurried to you so you could rescue me from the evil sex addict."

Just as Harry was taking hold of the knickers, he processed what Draco had said. The knickers in his hand were his mum's. He was not only fondling his mum's knickers but he had been fantasising about Draco in them. For some reason, the idea was still quite intriguing but, in honour of his mum, he wouldn't raise them to his nose and sniff them.

"Well, Potter? The lube only stays wet for so long." Draco gestured towards his arse.

"Oh, right." But the idea of Draco all wet and dripping like a girl but with his protuberances sticking out much lower than breasts ever would go unless they were on an eighty four year old woman had his prick hardening even further if that was even possible but as the author is a woman, she wouldn't know a thing about the feasibility of that. She also doesn't much care as it sounds good and reminds the readers that Harry wanted Draco sexually even though he'd been dreaming about shagging Ginny just a few months ago.

With a wave of his wand, Harry destroyed the knickers!Horcrux. As it smoked and turned to ash, there was a crack of Apparition and then Voldemort and all of his Death Eaters appeared. To speed things up and get to the shagging, Harry killed all of them single-handedly because he's the most powerful Wizard since Merlin although he wishes the author would say that he's the most powerful Wizard since God himself and that he is also hung like a horse and has the stamina to match. But the author isn't a blasphemer nor is she familiar with the sexual stamina of a horse, at least not from personal experience, so she won't say that.

As the last Death Eater, who just so happened to be Draco's father, fell, Harry reached out his hand. Draco shook it and then breathed out, in a high-pitched and quite effeminate voice, "Oh, Harry, I've loved you since First Year but I thought you hated me. Make love to me and take all my virginities! I've saved myself for you no matter what those rumours about me being the Sex God of Slytherin might make you think!"

Harry took Draco into his arms and then declared, "Oh Draco, I've felt the same even though I was off dreaming about Cho and Ginny! I pictured you when I was with both of them even though they didn't have your silver eyes, pointy chin or boy bits! I might be a virgin but I've watched loads of porn so we're going to have the best first time ever!"

Harry leered and Draco wept against his chest at the idea of Harry's horse-sized cock being up his arse. "Take me, Harry! Make me yours!"

So Harry bent Draco over the table that conveniently appeared at that moment and shagged him senseless, perfectly stimulating his prostate with every thrust. They both came at exactly the same time and for the same duration while calling out their love for one another. Afterwards, they embraced once more, petting and loving one another with small gestures much like a monkey picks a bug from the fur of another monkey and then eats it.

"Harry?" Draco sounded tremulous and unsure. And also shagged silly but that's not saying much as this entire story has been fairly ridiculous.

"Yes, loveydoveysnookiewookie?" Harry cooed.

"You remember how I'm half Jewish, half Veela and half Black, the family, of course?"

"Of course I do!"

"Then you'll realise that since you schtupped me up the arse and I'm half Veela, that we'll probably have a little bundle of joy in about three point four eight six three days, right? The more powerful the Schtupper, the quicker the pregnancy!" Harry was so excited to be a teenaged parent that he wept. As he wept, Draco suffered his first and only bout of morning sickness before growing a huge belly and weeping as the hormones swept through him.

All in all, it had been an emotional fifteen minutes for Harry but everyone knows that if anything odd is going to happen, it will happen to Harry Potter.

As always, I'd love to hear what you think.

Comments

[ficlette.livejournal.com]

I can't even pick a favorite part. Some jewels, though:

In fact, his prick felt like a diamond except much less sharp and perhaps less angular and pointy.

"Eeeebitybobitybaloo."

And the paragraph about Harry hardening further that I would have quoted but I know that I'm not a huge fan of comments that are all quotes. BUT MAINLY what I wanted to say is that hilarity runs wild through my veins and you have my firstborn. ♥

[wook77.livejournal.com]

I'm very glad that you laughed during this though I can't really absorb your comment as I'm far too busy loving on your icon because OMG.