Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ A Proposition ❯ Chapter 1

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A Proposition: Harry Potter has finally been captured, and taken to Voldemort’s impregnable base. Now, feeling half dead already, he can only think of one way to get out.

Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply

Author’s Note: This is a Parody. It involves usual parody things. Like Dobby’s muffins, Draco’s narcissism, and Harry’s…well…proposition.




It was dank, it was fairly dark, and horribly dirty. It was also precisely where Harry wanted to spend his summer. Yes, Voldemort had a wonderful sense of decoration after all. On second thought, he probably had gotten that lovely tapestry from the Malfoy’s. It positively screamed ‘I’m evil, fear me’.
Ah, sarcasm, a wonderful thing when used correctly. Harry so happened to have that correct opportunity, and he was ever so joyful about it. Indeed. He was enthralled with the type of joy and goodness that inspired Dobby to bake those wonderful chocolate muffins that he made Harry every Wednesday. Harry was very put out about missing Chocolate Muffin Day. Then again, with these accommodations, how could he complain?
Well, very easily in fact.
He was tired, he was bleeding, he was hungry (having missed the muffin breakfast), and very irritable. Harry doubted that he could conjure enough joy to bake half of a slimy, burned, and disease riddled muffin, even to save his life. Which was a disappointment, because he heard that Voldemort liked muffins. Then again, that could have been one of those odd dreams that made his head feel slightly twitchy every now and again.
Harry had been put in a room that contained many cells, himself, of course, being located in one of the lovely barred containers. His guard, much to his ever present luck, was one Draco Malfoy. He wasn’t exactly sure why, since Malfoy had failed in his last mission. He must have killed all of New York to make up for that mistake. Harry himself was fairly sure he hadn’t heard anything pertaining to blonde lunatics raving about blowing up things because their hair had one too many dust bunnies in it. Unless you counted Aunt Petunia, she had been raving quite a bit lately.
Harry really did need to get out of here. It wasn’t very convenient, being locked up in the very bottom of a heavy stone fortress. Especially when you’re trying to save the world, angst like any other teenager, and get a girlfriend that won’t start sobbing all over you.
Harry glanced over at Malfoy, who was trying to be subtle about finding a way to make a reflection in the stone walls. Needless to say, he wasn’t really succeeding. In being subtle, or making a reflection, that is. Yet, if there was anyone to come up with a spell that allowed you to see your reflection in any substance, it would no doubt be a Malfoy. Harry was just surprised he hadn’t already figured it out.
“Hey, Malfoy.” Harry stage whispered, sticking his face against the bars. Draco looked up, rather surprised, most likely forgetting Harry was there.
“Potter,” he gave Harry a disdainful look. “You’re interrupting ‘me’ time, what do you want?” Harry stared for a second, not really sure what to say. It was obvious what he wanted. He wanted to get out of here, he would like to kill Voldemort. Harry wouldn’t really be adverse to shoving Draco’s manicured nails up his pointy nose either. Yet, oblivious to this, Draco observed said nails, and awaited Harry’s answer.
“I want to escape of course.” Harry replied with a sigh of exasperation. It had seemed foolish to get Malfoy’s attention now, not that Harry really had Draco’s attention however. The only person who ever fully had Malfoy’s attention, was Malfoy.
“Well, of course you do.” replied Draco lightly, looked up from his perfect hand. He stared at the wall he had been concentrating on spelling earlier. “I would want to leave too, this place is absolutely horrible. For one, there is no colour coordination at all, and-” Harry cut Malfoy off before he could continue.
“Well then, why don’t you escape somewhere with more style? I like style, and colours. Yeah.” Harry finished rather lamely. Convincing people never really came on as his strong point.
“The question is, Potter, can you make it worth my while?” Draco asked, leaning forward on his chair to leer at Harry. A small smirk was spreading on his face, just itching to see how Harry would react to his raised question.
“Errm, Maybe?” Harry thought quickly. What could he offer Malfoy?
“Well then, ‘maybe’ doesn’t count as ‘no’ Potter. I am rather inclined to believe that it leans more towards the ‘yes’ answer.” said Draco, cutting off Harry’s trail of thought rather effectively.
“Is that why you had so many girlfriends?” Harry asked, amazed. He really should have thought of that sooner.
“That’s not the point.” Malfoy replied, dismissing Harry with a hand wave. “The point is, are you sure you can offer me something that…I’ll want?” As Draco finished his question, he removed himself from the chair, and sauntered to Harry’s cell. Harry looked rather baffled, and blinked a little too often to be normal for the next few seconds.
“Well?” Draco question again. Suddenly, Harry got it. He knew what Malfoy wanted.
“Yeah, I’ve got something you’ll want.” Harry replied, standing in his call, looking Malfoy in the eyes. Malfoy smirked back at him, which was slowly turning into a steady smile.
“Good decision Potter.” Malfoy drawled, taking his time about unlocking Harry’s cell. Harry really hadn’t the slightest idea why they might give Malfoy the keys to his cell. But, then again, everyone said Voldemort was crazy. Once Harry stepped out of the cell, Draco grabbed his arm and half-dragged him down the winding hallways.
Harry wasn’t exactly sure why Malfoy was so excited about the chocolate muffins Harry was planning on giving him, but Draco was a strange person. Everyone had always said Draco couldn’t cook, so he would obviously want some home baked goods. Harry just knew that muffins would save his life, even if they were in halves, burned, and slimy.
The odd glint in Malfoy’s eyes did worry him a bit. But, Harry was going to be free. He was sure he could take anything the stupid idiot tried to do. If only he didn’t start crying on Harry’s shoulder, and whining about some deceased lover, all the while trying to kiss him.
Luckily for Harry, Malfoy did not have a recently dead lover, nor did he make it a habit to cry. However, unfortunately for Harry, Draco did not like muffins. Which meant, clearly, that Harry would have to provide compensation. Hopefully he would be able to fall back on sugar cookies.