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“Weasley, I know that you are desperately, most pathetically in love with me, but trust me, chasing a bloke around the office with a shovel is not the way to any man’s heart!”
“I’ll stop chasing you as soon as you stop running away and succumb to your impending doom, Malfoy!”
“Not to be trite stating that Malfoys never succumb - to a Weasley of all people – but do you honestly believe I’d be as daft as to underestimate your intentions with that shovel? Not a chance, woman.”
“What did you say to Timothy?”
“Timothy, Timothy, Timothy… I don’t seem to recall anybody by that unfortunate name.”
“When you’re playing coy, you bastard, at least have the decency to hide that smirk! And I know you’ve talked to him! In the single letter he did send me – among all of my own that he returned unopened – your name was specifically stated as the reason for his sudden change of opinion regarding me, along with an immeasurable amount of gratitude expressed in your direction for enlightening him to all my wretched faults! He also added that I should be heartily grateful that he is not taking me to court, for – how did he put it – ‘fraud and irreparable emotional damage’ that I’ve caused him. Now, I know you had something to do with it – you always do – so spill, you bizarre little maggot! What did you tell him?”
“Oh, Timothy! That American Rodeo Rider you’ve been seeing? Well, Weasley, you shouldn’t listen to anything the man has to say. In his line of work he probably hit his head more often than he brushed his teeth, so honestly, I shouldn’t be held responsible for whatever nonsense sticks in that little head of his.”
“Malfoy!”
“You might hurt someone with that shovel of yours, swinging it so reckle— Watch the face, woman! Fine, you want to know what we talked about? Cars! We talked about Muggle cars.”
“… Oh.”
“How on earth he walked away from our conversation under the impression that you were a man in the not-so-distant past is absolutely beyond me.”
“ARGH!”
“Easy, Weasley, or your face will get stuck in that expression and then what will you do? Who will date you then, hmm?”
“At the rate you’re scaring away all of my potential suitors, I don’t think I should be worrying about that. Malfoy, what is wrong with you? Why are you doing this to me? Why is it that, after a mere fifteen-minute talk with you, all of my dates run towards the door, tripping over themselves? Why are you so adamant about turning me into a spinster—oh, stop laughing, you prick!”
“Weasley, at the age of twenty four, you hardly can be considered a spinster.”
“Well, I’m heading there, thanks to you! Why, oh Merlin why, won’t you leave me the hell alone? I’ve left Grimmauld Place to get away from you, only to find out you’re my new boss. I transferred departments only for you to become my new neighbor the very next day! I’ve moved out of my flat to get away and you bloody BOUGHT THE BUILDING I MOVED INTO! And then! Then the boyfriend sabotages started! You told Matthew that I was married. Richard – that I did time for a liquor-shop robbery. Colin miraculously found out that I had five little children all waiting at home with my sickly grandmother while I spent time with him. Oh, and one mustn’t forget Brody, who was absolutely appalled to discover that I was doubling as an exotic dancer at a Muggle pub. Why? Why do you hate me so much and want to make my life a living hell? Why, Malfoy, wwwhhhhhhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyyyy?”
“And they said I was prone to dramatize every little thing. Weasley, has it ever occurred to you that you are not the center of my existence and all those events were pure coincidences?”
“You’re a former Slytherin, Ferret. The word ‘coincidence’ does not exist in your vocabulary.”
“Oh alright, maybe those were slightly orchestrated coincidences, but you can hardly accuse me of ill will, Weasley. I’m simply looking out for you, like that bespectacled wonder asked me to before he vanished into thin air.”
“I don’t care what Harry asked you to do, but telling the bloke I am currently seeing that I was once a man, is not the suitable antics of a guardian! And I don’t need a blasted guardian! I’m a grown woman! I have a shovel! I can handle myself!”
“Well, you can certainly handle a shovel.”
“Malfoy…”
“Honestly, Weasley, you’re blowing the whole thing out of proportion. So I told that cowboy you had male bits, so what? He obviously wasn’t really in love with you. Or else he wouldn’t have been scared off that easily. And I could read him like a book - he was only looking for a good time. It never would have worked out anyway.”
“Who said anything about love? I would like for a person to a least be in like with me, but I don’t even get that because of your incessant interference!”
“Constant vigilance, Weasley. And why waste your time on any idiot that comes along, if you know from the start he wouldn’t be able to accept you if you had male bits?”
“Malfoy!”
“What? Besides, he was an American, Weasley. Really… even you ought to have better taste.”
“Draco, please! Stop terrorizing my life, stop making me miserable, stop playing me like a puppet, just stop it!”
“…”
“I know Harry asked you to look after me. I know you picked up some awfully annoying ‘older brother’ traits from the time you lived with us at the Burrow. I know your twisted little head simply enjoys watching me squirm and mope around in my hollow existence, but can’t you just draw a line? Can’t you just call it quits and simply drop me a Floo call once in a while to make sure I am indeed alive like all my other brothers are doing? Can’t you stop it?”
“…”
“Just—oh, what’s the use?”
“You think I do this because Potter asked me to? You think I’m doing this – all of this – because I view you as my little sister? You think I enjoy watching you run around with one imbecile after another, watching you sell yourself short, setting yourself up for disappointments and wasted time? You think I like it when you’re this angry at me? You really, honestly believe that I do this for my amusement? Or out of… brotherly affections?”
“Umm…”
“I have been watching you since my sixth year at Hogwarts. I was watching you when it was still forbidden and hopeless and absolutely mad. I have been trying to bloody quit you for as long as I can remember, and you think I see myself as another one of your brothers?”
“…”
“I would’ve stopped it all a long time ago if I could, believe me, Weasley. Being in love with you is no picnic. You’re loud, you cuss like a sailor, you have no table manners, you’ve the shortest fuse in the history of mankind, and you are a Weasley. Excessively so! You still call me ‘Malfoy’ after all this years, you have the most wretched disposition, and you are extremely inconsiderate when it comes to other people’s sentiments towards that ridiculous shovel of yours! You treat stray dogs better than you treat me, even though I’ve been watching over you for years. And you see me as your brother!”
“…”
“Oh, so now you’re speechless? Now you’re at a loss for words? No, Weasley, I’ve poured my heart out to you, so do speak up. There is absolutely nothing in this universe you could say to make matters worse.”
“Stop running your hand through your hair like that. You’re balding as it is.”
“…”
“…”
“I take it back. I take it all back. I’ve had it with you, you demented excuse of a female!”
“Well, what do you expect me to say, Malfoy? You tell me you love me, that you’ve been in love with me for years, and expect me to do what? Should I giggle, blush and cast my eyes down? Should I faint? Fawn? Flee? How am I supposed to react to that?”
“You could start by having the decency to blush, yes. Then giggle. And eventually to fawn, yes, I’d like that.”
“Well, I’m already blushing, I don’t do giggling, and you can kiss my—you can forget about fawning!”
“I am in an emotionally delicate situation right now, Weasley, of which you are the cause, and you have the nerve to yell at me? Yell? At me?”
“Well, you’re yelling too!”
“I have the right to it! I am the wounded party here!”
“What wounded what? There are no wounds!”
“Yes? You try loving someone who sees you as their sibling.”
“I have already.”
“Oh! Oh—oh, why does Potter have to be dragged into this? Why is it always him?”
“You started it!”
“Yes, and I’ll also be the one to finish it. See you later, Weasley.”
“Hey! Where are you going?”
“Getting wasted, of course. I just revealed myself to you, opened my chest and let you see what’s inside, and you’ve ripped my heart out, tossed it onto the floor, and proceeded to dance Flamenco on it. And told me I’m getting bald. What else is there left for me to do other than get thoroughly sloshed?”
“…”
“See? Don’t look me up.”
“Hey, Malfoy!”
“What now?”
“Would you still want me if I had male bits?”
“…”
“I’m waiting for an actual answer, not a gaping expression.”
“Please tell me it is a hypothetical question.”
“…”
“You know what, I don’t care! You can have fish bits as far as I’m concerned! You can have no bits and I still wouldn’t give a damn! I don’t care much for your bits, Weasley! I’ve never met your bits, therefore you can have whatever bits you want!”
“Good to know.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m joining you in the ‘getting thoroughly sloshed’ resolution. I’ve been dumped today, you know.”
“Fine. But I’m giving you a fair warning – when you get wasted and start throwing yourself at me, I will take advantage of it.”
“Will you stop terrorizing my boyfriends any time soon?”
“Not a chance in hell.”
“Then from when I’m standing, having you take advantage of my drunkenness is probably my only chance of getting some in the near future. I might have to relent.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“What is it this time?”
“I don’t want you to relent, woman! I want you to fall madly in love with me, damn it!”
“Don’t you know that the way to a woman’s heart runs through her liver?”
“I was under the assumption that it’s the way to a woman’s pants.”
“Naah. Pants are only a detour.”
“A detour? Fine.”
“Mhm.”
“…”
“…”
“Weasley, does your detour consist of male bits? Or fish bits? Or any type of bits other than the ones that should be there?”
“I thought you said you didn’t care.”
“Just answer the bloody question.”
“Do you have the nerve to question my womanliness?”
“Answer me or I’ll shove you down these stairs.”
“Brute. My bits are very feminine, Malfoy, don’t worry.”
“Oh, thank god.”
“In fact, it’s the most feminine penis I have ever seen.”
“…”
“Oh bugger. He actually fainted. It was a joke, you ponce!”
The End.
Lirie Halliwell is the author of 16 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 52 members. Members who liked Male Bits also liked 1651 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 52 members. Members who liked Male Bits also liked 1651 other stories.
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