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Wonders of the Giant Squid by Beatrice_N_Malfoy
Chapter 1 : The Wonders of the Giant Squid
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 3

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A/N: I know I’ve been awfully mean by not posting up Faux Friday but school is harsh.  I suppose it would’ve been better to post up the sequel to Enclosed Here but my imagination is running fairly low on that particular train. But here is this, my try at something not so dark, or I hope not so dark. I’ve been agonizing through this horrible cold and my nina won’t let me take anything so this came to mind. That is, once they let me near the computer.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! –Triss *^_^*

                                                 The Wonders of the Giant Squid


    A few simple words could explain how she felt: like crap.

    She had been so stupid, going out in the middle of a rainstorm. But, of course, she just had to see the giant squid finally surface and twirl like a ballerina. What had convinced her that watching the giant squid would be fun and exciting? Harry and Ron, of course. But were they there? No. No, the boys thought it would be fun to lead their best friend out on a hunt in the middle of a rainstorm to see a bloody squid act like a child on its first ballet class.

    A shudder ran up her spine at the memory of being drenched even more as the squid jumped high and landed, crying something, that if it had been an actual language, would’ve been “Cannonball!”

     Fun and exciting Crookshank’s arse.

    Because of that night out, she had been cursed with a stuffed/runny nose, bleary/swollen/crying eyes, a horrible headache, and no possible way of getting out of bed. Really, she had tried. Multiple times, mind you. But her arms and legs felt like jelly and to add to it, she couldn’t see where the hell she was going. On the bright side, though, (or rather, once she could see) she’d be able to curse Harry and Ron to next year and all would be well.

    But for now, all she could do was lie there on her bed, not moving a single inch until her nose got too stuffy or her booger ran down to her lips. And groan, occasionally, but not often.




    Please! That was just plain disgusting!

    He rolled his eyes in disgust and continued scrawling quickly, trying to finish that four foot essay for potions before class. True, he was Head Boy and should be setting a good example yaddah, yaddah, yaddah, but really, who cared what the effects of adding the porcupine needles before the frog eyes in that potion that he couldn’t remember the name of? Plus, who can concentrate with a girl-gone-elephant hollering in the next room at the highest possible volume her nasal passages allowed? No one!

    That is why he, Draco Malfoy, was sitting on his bed, desperately trying to finish his essay, with the Head Girl blowing her nose loudly a few meters away in her room.

   Really, hadn’t the girl ever heard of a Silencing Charm or perhaps a Pepper Up? Obviously not. The damn girl just had to go and be allergic to something inside the Pepper Up and so decided to let nature take its course. Did she think of him? No. Did she think that her being sick would bother him? No! The selfish female had gone through with it without even considering the consequences. Like not letting her roommate sleep during the night, thus rendering him positively useless during the day.

   Pansy and the lot of them had been on his back, ‘cause of course, they didn’t know what had happened to Granger. Truth be told, he wouldn’t have either if he didn’t have to share living quarters with her. But they thought he was having a relationship with her and Blaise, of all people, thought she was a vixen in bed. Hermione Granger! A vixen! Only in a nerd’s dream.

     Sighing, he put his quill down and looked at his results. Not bad. Not bad at all. If it had been a five year-old writing it! Dammit, it looked like a chicken had decided to take his quill and squiggle all over his paper. Repeatedly crossing out the doodles it didn’t like. Sighing yet again, he flopped back onto his bed and breathed in deeply, trying to not panic. He was getting there, getting to his happy place, when Granger decided to interrupt him by blowing her nose in the most horrendous way possible.

    His eyes snapped open, fell on his chicken scratch of an essay and groaned. Maybe he should act sick too. He was particularly allergic to mudbloods.





    “Yoo-hoo. Her-mi-ohh-neee!”

    Oh, no! What were they doing here?

    “We just came to see how you were doing, Hermione.” Good he sounded like a little boy in need of a scolding.

    “Yeah. We’re sorry, Hermione. But you got to admit, the squid was – oof.”

    “You need anything, honey? Some tea, maybe? More tissues?”

    “A never ending supply of tissues would be great,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by the pillow and her stuffy nose.

    “’Kay, hun. We’ll be back after class with your tissues.”

    And they walked out. No hug, no comforting words. Nothing. Nada. Both of them could go to hell and rot for all she cared at the moment.




    He stood. Looked at himself in the mirror and walked out. Only to be greeted by Potter and Weasel. He almost walked right back into his room right then.

    He nodded, and they didn’t attack him so he went on to knock at Granger’s door, the moment they hurried down the stairs and went out the portrait hole.

    Knock, knock. “Granger, it’s me.”


    He took it as consent and opened the door. He had to blink a couple of times to adjust to the near darkness in the room and coughed dramatically at the stuffy smell of the room. Contaminated room. Filled with germs of a sick person. Is it possible to get sick in under, he tried to see his watch, 20 seconds?

     The lump on the bed stirred and he almost expected a mutated Granger to come out and attack him and try to eat him. But all that happened was she turned around and groaned.

    With an eyebrow raised, he went to sit on the edge of the bed and jostled her harshly. More groaning. Wow. The girl had been reduced to nothing but a weak, groaning organism. Better for him, he just leaned in to her face and let her breathe her horrible germ-y breath on him. After about five seconds, he stood up, scrunching his nose.

    “Granger, you have horrible breath, you know. You should brush your teeth. Ew, now I smell like your stinky breath.”

    “You wouldn’t want to move if you can’t see, your head’s pounding and you can’t breathe for shit.” At least, that’s what he understood from the garbled mess of:  “Ju wudn’t wanna move if ju can’d see, jur hea’s bounding and ju can’d bweathe fow shid.”

    “Yeah, yeah, Granger. Got to get to class. What a shame.”

    “Whad duju have nexd?”


    “Can ju tell Slughown do send me a bebber ub wid no daisy betals?”

    “Sure, sure,” he sighed, trying to stall. “Hey Granger, wads dat in jur hair?” he leaned in close for a better look.

    She shifted, seemed to try to shrug and then fell limp. He dimly saw the shape of her face and dipped in low. Maybe if he kissed her….

    “Ah – ah – ah – choo!!”

    “Arrgghhh!!” he shouted bloody murder and swiped his face clean. “Your booger and your saliva actually touched me!”

    Sniff.  “Sowwy.”

    “Ugh.” And walked quickly out, hurrying as he heard the bell ring up ahead.




     “Ten points, Mr. Malfoy. Although you are in my own house, I won’t allow you to come in 10 minutes late more than once a week without being punished, understood?”

    “Yes, sir,” he mumbled and strutted over to sit next to Blaise. He sat, just sat there and stared at the room that was currently in frenzy.

    He leaned in close to his friend and whispered, shifting his eyes to a hysterical Lavender Brown to a sobbing Pansy Parkinson, “What’s going on mate?”

    “Dunno. Slughorn said something about brewing a potion and then testing it. Guess Brown ended up with Weasley and Pansy got stuck with Longbottom, since Finnigan isn’t here.”

    “Oh.” Then, “Wait, you’re my partner?” He’d rather die than ever admit that his voice was slightly panicked.

    “Yuppers. What do you want to do? The Dreamless, Amortentia, or a Shrinking Potion?”

    He swallowed. “Which one has the least ingredients?”

    Blaise tapped his chin. “I think the Shrinking one.”

    And so, the disaster began.




    “Ugh.” Bleeding hell, that hurt.

    Stupid girl. Just had to move to other side ‘cause her arm hurt. Stupid. Now she must face the consequences.

    Head pounding, stuffy nose, bleary eyes, heavy limbs, crying.

    Stupid Malfoy just had to come in and disturb her perfectly peaceful slumber. Of course, it wasn’t all that peaceful, considering, but.

    You had to admit though; sneezing on his face was funny. Especially spraying him with her boogers and saliva. Thinking of that made her want to chuckle, but it hurt too much and her nose was too stuffed so she needed to save her breath.

    She remembered what Harry and Ron had promised and suddenly wondered if the boys had double Potions with the Slytherins. She snorted and thought that with their luck, of course.

    No one sane would have imagined what was going on in the classroom right at that moment.





     “Merlin! Draco, did you see that? It just exploded! That was wicked!”

     “Oh, really?” he said, sarcastically, while wiping the grub off his face. “You’ve got to stop mixing the damn petals and the acid, all you’re doing is covering me in mucky stuff.”


    They both swiveled around to see a particularly soggy piece of frog leg hurtling at them. They ducked in time, but Pansy and Longbottom didn’t.

    “EWW! Get it OFF ME!!”

    “Hold still! AAHH!! It’s on me! It’s on me! GET IT OFF!!”

    Draco really should have been more concerned about his classmates, but seriously, who could stop laughing? He couldn’t figure out whose voice was whose and he couldn’t help but guffaw at the thought of Longbottom’s voice not being able to be distinguished from Pansy’s soprano.

     “Mate,” guffaw, “did you hear,” more laughing, “that?”

     “Yeah,” he breathed, clutching the desk, sitting back down to finish the potion.

     All that they needed was to add exactly 5mL of dragon bile and the last boar eyes into the cauldron at a low fire. So he started pouring it, holding his breath. Once he was finished, he carefully hovered to the cauldron, tilting the vial dramatically.

    “Be careful, mate. You drop it, and it’ll eat at the wood…and at you,” came the comforting whisper of his best mate next to his ear.

     Deciding to ignore him, rather than to turn around and snap at him, he continued tilting the vial slowly, until it was at a 25˚ and had to stop because Blaise had moved up in front of him and was breathing on him.

    He breathed in deeply and felt something up his nose but continued, “Blaise. Stop. Breathing. On. Me.”

    “’Kay.” But he didn’t move back, he just held his breath.

    With a last glare in place, he was now ready to drop it. It was slowly pouring, but he felt something, deep inside his nose. He meant to step away, he did, but the bile was already pouring and he had to sneeze.

    He sneezed. The bile went flying. Landed on Blaise’s face. And started eating.

    “AAARRRGGGHHH!! It burns!”

    All he did was stand there, with his booger sliding down into his open mouth and his bleary eyes about to cry.




    That is how Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini (with particularly nasty burns) sit here, not moving a single inch unless it is to wipe their booger from their lip or to blow their nose like an elephant. Hermione Granger lies next to them, not moving an inch either.

   All of them feel like crap and can’t see a thing and seem to be crying for no reason.

    Turns out Malfoy and Zabini are also allergic to something vital in the Pepper Up potion, so they suffer. Really, they’ve tried to move. Various times. But all they can do is groan. Occasionally, but not often.

    Dumbledore and McGonagall insisted there be interhouse unity. We bond through the squid. And a Shrinking Potion. What the world has come to.


Please review! –Triss *^_^*

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