Summary:It wouldn't be a Hogwarts contest if Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter weren't trying to beat the snot out of each other.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing:Harry/Draco, implied Lucius/Severus
Rating: R for sexual imagery involving food, involuntary drug use, language, and violence
Disclaimer: I own nothing, JKR owns everything, and no profit was made. So, please don't sue. Also, one line (indicated by double quotes) comes from the original fic.
Original story: No Hands Allowed by Jaebi Lit
"Oh look, another day, another ridiculous contest. Honestly, does the Headmaster really think this is distracting any of us from what's going on outside?"
"Malfoy, shut up. You're just pissed because there isn't a cock-sucking contest."
"Nott, I will hurt you if you don't shut it. Consider this your final warning."
"You and what army, Malfoy? Your goons went home, remember? It's just you, me and Zabini. And he's not on your side."
Zabini chose that moment to make a dramatic entrance. He leaned against a wall, looking at his nails as he spoke.
"I was just about to beat Nott to a bloody pulp. Care to join me?"
"Dear Draco, I know you're under a great deal of stress right now, but is hurting Nott really going to solve anything?"
Zabini strolled over and placed his arm on Draco's shoulders. Nott smirked.
"Right, that's it!"
Draco launched himself at Nott. Zabini rolled his eyes.
"You're both on the same side, now stop it!" Zabini shouted, but as usual no one was listening to him.
"His father's a poofer!" Nott yelled, trying to hit Malfoy where it hurt.
"You take that back right now! And at least my father doesn't need mandrake to get it up."
"How dare you!"
"Honestly, how he managed to sire a son is beyond me. You sure you're not a bastard? You don't..."
Whatever Draco was about to say was cut short as Nott started choking him. Zabini winced as Draco started turning purple and shuddered when Draco managed to knee Nott in the balls. Nott let go of Draco's throat, and the two combatants separated.
"Honestly, both of you are ridiculously immature. Why do I hang out with you?"
Neither Draco nor Nott was capable of answering. Nott had curled into a little ball on the floor and was whimpering. Draco stood over him, massaging his throat. Zabini wandered over to the bulletin board and looked at the notice.
"Now, how are either of you going to compete in an eating contest?"
Draco walked up behind Zabini and looked at the board.
"An eating contest? How undignified," he said in a raspy voice.
"Come on, Draco. Ten galleons says Potter and/or his sidekick out eats you."
"Now, help me get Nott to Pomfrey. I think you might have ruptured one of his testicles."
"Seeing as he was trying to prevent me from breathing, it seemed like the thing to do."
“Hasn't anyone ever told you that kneeing someone in the groin is an extremely crass thing to do?”
“Exactly, which is why no one would expect it of me!”
“Draco, you're cracked.”
“I will hurt you too, Blaise.”
“Sorry, Draco, you don't scare me.”
The two of them hoisted Nott up and took him to Madame Pomfrey. She gave them a hard stare, and then gestured to a bed. Obviously the Slytherins had been up to no good again, but she'd learned from experience that they would just close ranks and she'd get nothing out of them. Better to mention it to Snape and he'd handle it. She walked over to them and handed Malfoy a jar of debruising ointment.
“Rub that on your neck every two hours or so. It'll help. Now, you'd better get going if you want to make the contest."
"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey."
Draco and Blaise wandered off towards the Great Hall. Nott stared daggers at the two of them. He would have his revenge. He would make Draco pay in the most embarrassing manner possible. Once he could uncurl, that was.
Blaise smiled as Draco ate. Malfoy'd had manners shoved into him from the day he was born, and even now, in an eating contest, he was eating properly.
"How're you doing, Blaise?"
"Not bad. Fullish. And you?"
"There's a reason why my mother refers to me as the bottomless pit. That git Potter and the Gryffindors are going down. Hard."
Draco glared over at Potter, who was a complete and total mess. He would beat Potter, he would!
There were only a few Ravenclaws, Potter, and Malfoy left. Blaise was amazed at how much food Draco had eaten. He really was determined. Most of Slytherin (well, those who hadn't gotten sick) were clustered around Draco, watching him eat and encouraging him on. He was the last hope of Slytherin, after all.
"Come on Draco, you can do it!"
"Malfoy, if you lose, I will beat you to a pulp."
"That's not encouraging, Montague."
"Shut it, Bulstrode."
"“And now we are down to two contenders: Harry Potter of Gryffindor, and Draco Malfoy of Slytherin! Will the two contestants please come to the high table for the final round of Hogwarts’ first Food Eating Bash?”"
Draco got slowly to his feet, and walked up to the high table. He felt fine, good in fact. Potter had no chance.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen
Nott came down to the kitchens to get away. It was a nice place to escape to, especially when you got sick of Pomfrey mothering you. He had to figure out how to get Malfoy back. The elves were running around frantically, making pies and the like. He wondered vaguely how the contest was going. No doubt Malfoy had bowed out early like the wanker he was. Dumbledore's voice echoed suddenly around the kitchen, announcing that Potter and Malfoy were, in fact, the finalists, and a brilliant plan erupted full-formed into Nott's brain. He'd spike the food with the potions he'd made over the summer. He quickly went through his pockets, looking for the small vials. He always tried to keep at least one on him, just in case. His searching hands finally grasped a small sealed tube, and he yanked it out of his pocket and read the label.
Vapor of Amorata. Well, it would either poison them, or make them do some very embarrassing things. Either way, he won.
He carefully put a few drops in each pie, and ran back up to the great hall. He really wanted to see this.
Draco stared at the Headmaster in horror. Obviously he'd gone even more senile than usual. Eat without using your hands? Like savages? This had to be some ploy so that Gryffindor would win. The old fool thought he'd lose his nerve over having to stick his face in a pie? He'd show him.
With a growl, Draco dove head-first into the pie on his plate. It was rather good. Once he finished, he looked up at Potter, who had a strawberry in his hair. Sheesh. Then his brain came up with images of strawberries and cream elsewhere on Potter, and he shook his head to clear it. After all, Malfoys didn't do that sort of thing. And it was Potter! He wondered briefly if senility was catching, because he'd obviously gone round the bend. Then the next pie appeared, and he bent back to his task.
Snape shook his head. He knew that look, had seen it on Lucius' face more than once. Obviously, he needed to have a nice long chat with Draco at the first available opportunity. And that was going to be awkward. The talk about sex, protection, and the like had been bad enough, and that was with all the other Slytherins in the room. The problem was, really, that anytime he thought of sex, he thought of Lucius. So giving his son the "It's okay to like men as well as women, and your father won't mind so long as he gets a grandchild" speech, well, awkward was really the word for it. Especially since Draco would likely question him and then he'd have to dance carefully around the topic of how he knew Lucius wouldn't mind. Damn it.
He was interrupted in his musings by the sight of Potter throwing a pie into Draco's face and Draco retaliating with one of his own.
And why was Nott smiling like that? Nott never smiled like that unless he was up to something. He stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out what he had done. Then the hoots and cheers and wolf whistles started, and he almost fainted.
Potter and Malfoy were kissing. They broke apart slowly, a dazed look in both their eyes. That look was familiar somehow. If he could just remember…where had he seen it before? It was wrong, it shouldn't be there, but he couldn't place it.
He had to tap her on the shoulder to get her attention.
"That look, does it seem wrong to you?"
"Wrong? How would it be wrong?"
"There is something more going on than two hormone-crazed teenagers."
"Are you sure? Because Malfoy licking a pie off Potter's groin seems very hormone-driven to me."
"Look at them closely, Minerva."
"I don't swing that way, Severus, and that's rather perverted."
"Minerva, think. That look. That stupid lust-crazed look. Where does it look familiar from? I will grant that Potter always looks stupid, but this is different."
Minerva thought for a second. Severus was right, that look was familiar. And then it hit her.
"Severus, it's the look of someone under the influence of a lust potion! Stop the contest!"
Everyone except Potter and Malfoy stopped and stared at her. Malfoy seemed to be very busy with his licking, and Potter was rather intent on it as well.
"Minerva, what is going on?"
"The pies have been tampered with, Headmaster. We must stop and separate them at once!"
Snape was already there, pulling Malfoy away from Potter. Malfoy was snarling and growling and struggling, and Potter was trying to hold on to him.
"You'll thank me for this later, Malfoy."
Draco bit him. Hard.
Both boys froze and stiffened. Snape lowered Malfoy gently to the floor. Then he stuck his finger in the cream covering Malfoy's groin and licked it.
"There is a faint trace of a potion in these pies. And it has some belladonna in it. It might be best to get them both to the infirmary. They're about to be rather violently ill."
The students stared for a moment, and then started arguing…
"But who wins?"
"Malfoy, of course. He ate the most!"
"Only because the head of your house stopped the contest. Obviously Slytherin's cheating, again and we should win!"
The voices rose, and soon Gryffindor and Slytherin were shouting at each other, and about to riot.
They quieted down a bit at the Headmaster's yell, but neither house was backing down.
"The last round is a draw! Both houses will receive half points!"
There was quite a bit of grumbling at that from both sides.
"Now, please return to your dormitories."
There was more grumbling at that, but gradually the great hall emptied. Malfoy and Potter were levitated off to the infirmary, and Snape decided to have a nice long chat with Nott.
A few hours later, Draco and Harry were slowly recovering. Narcissa Malfoy was sitting by her son's side, wiping his forehead with a cool cloth. Both boys looked rather miserable.
"Oh god. Did I really do what I think I did?"
"Shh, Draco, don't worry about it. Just rest."
"I bit Professor Snape, and licked Potter. Dear god in heaven, I licked Potter and liked it."
"Shh. It was just the potion."
"Father's going to kill me."
"No, he's not. He's worried, not angry. And he's talking to Severus and the Headmaster now."
"I think I'll just spend the rest of my life right here. Become a hermit or something."
Narcissa patted Draco's head, then kissed it.
"I promise you, it will blow over. It seems like the world's ending now, but it will blow over."
"Slytherin. Now get some rest. I should go make sure Lucius isn't yelling. I'll come back and check on you later. And don't worry."
Harry was rather inclined to snicker at Malfoy, but his head hurt. And his stomach hurt, and he was miserable. And, he'd licked Malfoy. He'd licked Malfoy, and liked it. And deep down, he wanted to do it again. He was a poofer. That was really the only explanation. He groaned. He was a poofer with a crush on Draco Malfoy. Fuck. Why did his life always get more complicated?