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Harry wondered how he got in this situation. Hermione was half-snogging Pansy Parkinson and Ron was so drunk that he was dancing with Goyle. On a second thought, that couldn't be called dancing. It was more like trying to stand and gripping whatever came close to their fingers.
The fact that all fifth years and up Slytherins and Gryffindors were drinking in the same room without fighting was quite astonishing as well. They were all civil with each other - something was definitely up - and some even talked as long-time friends. They danced to the music the Room of Requirement provided and drank until nothing ever mattered anymore. Yet, what shocked Harry the most was that Draco bloody Malfoy was doing a lap dance on Blaise Zabini's lap - much to the boy's pleasure - while looking Harry in the eye and moaning. The moaning part Harry might have imagined though - he too was a bit liquored up. Or maybe it was him moaning, but he would never admit that.
They had all been back to Hogwarts to finish their last year. Some said it was because they wanted to recover from the war and be at a place where they felt at home. But this was beyond 'recovery'.
Harry guessed this situation had started months ago, when the entire Gryffindor dorm had started the stupidest drinking game ever invented in a magical boarding school dormitory: The Malfoy Shooter Game.
The rules were simple: whenever Harry complained or talked about what Malfoy did that irritated him, all Gryffindors - fifth year and above - were to take a shot of Firewhiskey. Since that happened quite often - per Ron and Hermione - they set up a charm in the common room that whenever Harry mentioned Malfoy or even pronounced his name, shots filled with firewhiskey appeared in front of everyone who played the game. It was quite ingenious, to be honest, and they had asked the help of some Ravenclaws - thanks to Luna - to finish off the spell. No one who didn't know if they really wanted to drink would have a glass appear in front of them. No one who didn't want to drink would neither and someone who wanted to stop would also see his supply of firewhiskey stop and be replaced by a glass of water.
The first days, Harry thought it wouldn't last long since he didn't talk about Malfoy that often. Yet, after the first week and ten people so trashed that they ran in the corridors naked, Harry decided that he should stop ranting on and on.
Spoiler alert: that didn't last long.
For a month, Harry tried not to get angry at the infuriating blond but it had been all in vain. He still witnessed as his friends got bashed.
On the second month of his sixth year though, Harry realized he thought more of Malfoy than ever. He didn't talk much, but he still followed his footsteps every damn night on the Marauders' Map. That did earn him hours of jokes from Ron and a knowing look from Hermione but he didn't care as long as he could be suspicious about Malfoy.
The game slowed down due to his non-talking and yet, Malfoy was still a prat and Harry could never stop complaining.
On the third month, something strange happened. Parkinson and Hermione met. Regularly. They arranged meetings in the library or even met at the Three Broomsticks to drink butterbeers. The fact that Hermione met with a friend didn't bother Harry much. What did bother him though - to the point of keeping him awake at night - was that this friend was one of Malfoy's crew. What scared him - he would never admit it - was that he and Ron would have to, at one point, meet with Malfoy and Co. That. That was scary as hell.
"I told you, Harry, it's nothing, we're just having some girl talk." Hermione said after the hundred time he asked if something was up. "You know I'm the only girl in our little group and you guys aren't really the best company for those kinds of things."
"'Mione, you could have gone to Ginny, or Luna, or even one of the Patil twins! Why Parkinson of all the girls that are available here ?!"
"That's my problem Harry, and you shouldn't worry too much, really. It's only chatting." She gave him one of those kind looks he always gets when she worries for him, and kissed his cheek. "I promise I will tell you if anything is suspicious, but it's not. Go with Ron, he's waiting you know?"
Hermione left the common room then and Harry was left standing there in the entrance. He never asked again what they were up to, but he opened the Marauder's Map nonetheless.
After a week, the Malfoy Shooter Game stopped altogether, and Harry was more than happy because even though sometimes he got to drink with his friends - which only lead to more ranting - he still didn't like the idea of the game in itself.
He could have been happy with the fact that it was ending. Because it was ending, the game really stopped and it was two nice weeks of happiness and flowers and birds chirping for Harry. Flowers had bloomed on his bed and he had been the happiest man on earth.
Kidding. It had been the most stressful time he ever had. The nightmares came rushing in his head and he couldn't sleep, although he wanted to wake the entire school up with his screaming. Harry had taken the habit to put silencing spells around his bed and locked his curtains before sleep, he couldn't relax otherwise. When he could sleep, it was barely manageable. He awoke glued to his sheets because of his sweat and paralyzed because of his dreams. He would cast Lumos and put up protecting spells all around himself before taking out the Marauders' Map. He spent the remaining hours of the night studying every little footstep and name tag navigating the castle. and when he finally could relax a little, it was when he found Draco Malfoy's tag unmoving in the dungeons. He tried not to think too much on that particular point and fell on his bed.
But strangely enough, he realized that when Malfoy got back from whatever he was doing that Harry couldn't care less about clearly, the Slytherin common room was cramped. Harry couldn't even read the names as there was too much people in there.
It happened a few times and each time, it was only when Malfoy finished class or came back from dinner. Harry realized that even the people in their beds came down whenever Malfoy was there and everyone stayed until late in the night, or early in the morning, depends how you see it.
Yet, despite how much suspicious Harry might have found it, he still couldn't care about what was going on. He was restless. He hadn't had a good-night's sleep since his early years in Hogwarts and lately it was all he was asking for. He spent hours awake, laying on his bed and looking at nothing. Until one day he decided to charm his curtains and bed railing to show the night sky. It was done so that there would never be clouds and the constellations stood out perfectly. The first night he had looked at it, it relaxed him to the point of falling asleep. He was beyond happy because it meant he could finally rest, and yet, it didn't last that long.
After a week, the nightmares came rushing back, with the night sky in them. He remembered Cedric's death and the night he became The Boy Who Lived. He took the charm off.
His habit of looking at the Marauders Map came back, if not stronger than before.
Even when he was sure that he could sleep, he would look at it, his eyes directed at the dungeons. He waited until Malfoy was back in his dorm before he went back to sleep.
The crowding in the Slytherin common room was as frequent as before and Harry finally decided to tell Hermione. Yet, the only thing she did was smile and go meet with Pansy.
"Don't you feel lonely with Hermione always running to meet with Parkinson?" Ron had asked him one day.
Harry looked strangely at him. "I had problems with Hermione meeting with her but I was never 'lonely', Ron. Why would I be? She can have other friends."
"I mean, yeah but..." Harry watched as his friend's cheeks darkened with embarrassment. Ron looked away. "FINE! Let it go. Just, go back to stalking Malfoy so we can have another round of the shooter game."
"I'm not stalking Malfoy!!" Harry said defensively and, to his horror, all of Gryffindor looked at him as if yes, he was doing so. "Stop looking at me like that! I am not stalking him! I was never and I never will!!" He got up from the bench and rushed out of the Great Hall. Although he said that, maybe watching Malfoy's footsteps all night long on his map was a bit creepy, he was not stalking him.
And yet, when he thought about this, he realized that it was quite strange and a bit scary. Ron and Hermione had warned him multiple times yet he had paid them no attention. Now, it seemed important. Harry didn't know why exactly but his mind always seemed focused on Malfoy. He didn't want to think about all that for the moment but seeing as all his friends considered him obsessed with Malfoy, he just couldn't ignore it anymore.
Harry wanted to go to the Gryffindor Common Room but without thinking about it, he was standing in the Seventh Floor, in front of the Prefects' Bathroom. He looked around, wondering if he could go inside, knowing the password from Ron. He examined the door for a while and finally decided to go inside. He wasn't so much of a rule-follower anyways.
He whispered the password and glanced inside, looking for anyone who would have decided to take a bath before fully entering the room. He asked for being alone with his thoughts for once and not be surrounded by people asking him everything they wanted to know about Voldemort. He wanted to be by himself and center his thoughts on himself and his feelings. He wanted to think about Malfoy, from a whole other perspective. He needed to obliterate the fact that he was the son of a Death Eater and probably one already. He had to forget his posh accent, his imperious personality and also the fact that he was a freaking prat.
Harry undressed, leaving his clothes askew, because after all he was alone and he didn't have to fold his clothes neatly in case anyone walked by. Not that he did fold them while in the dorm, but still. He put his glasses on the floor and headed for the bath. He turned all the taps on, not knowing what he needed to relax. After all, he had never been one to think about what scent matched for each trouble. He just slipped in the tub, emerging himself in water, drowning in the hot liquid. He opened his eyes, remembering forth year when he had to find what the screeching of the golden egg meant. He thought about Moaning Myrtle, the merpeople, Cedric, and inevitably, Malfoy. He wondered what would have happened if he had been born in Harry's stead. What he would have done if he had been the one with a scar on his forehead, and walking with a death threat every day because of a madman. Maybe that would have changed who he was today. And yet Harry couldn't help but think that it didn't matter in any way. That even though Malfoy would have been different in another life, they both were in this one for now. He had to think about Malfoy the way he was now, and how he thought now.
Harry emerged from the water and looked at the mermaid on the stained glass. He was too lost in thoughts to realize that yes, he was thinking about Malfoy as a human, not his enemy or anything else but a regular human being with feelings. And that it didn't bother him much who he was thinking about nor that he was having thoughts he shouldn't have about his nemesis.
He wondered what Malfoy could have been through that pushed him to be what he was today. Not that it excused anything he did, but what could have happened. He wondered why he looked so grim whenever Harry glanced his way across the Great Hall. Harry was curious about the reason behind all of Malfoy's stiffness, all his rough edges and what was behind all this. After all, maybe the reason why Malfoy was so mean to every wizard on earth apart from the Slytherins, was because he wanted to shield himself from the others?
When Harry brought all his attention on that special fact, Malfoy seemed quite fragile. He looked as if he was running from something terrible, from himself in its whole. Like he was hiding from whatever thought was crippling in his head. Like some horrible monster called anxiety was clawing at his skin with every minute passing by. As if Malfoy was some king of weak creature hiding in the depths of his mind, or maybe the depths of the Manor, asking himself what would happen if he were to die.
Harry felt a dark feeling in his guts. He felt sick. He didn't want to think about Malfoy hurting. He didn't want to imagine him pained or wounded. He just didn't feel at ease with all this.
He sank back in under the mass of bubbles surrounding him. He closed his eyes firmly and thought of something else, something that he liked. He thought about Quidditch, and then how much he loved going after the snitch. He thought about his team and how he liked being with all of them, because he felt like he belonged somewhere. He thought about how much he appreciated the time he spent with all his team members. How close they were to each other... And then, he thought about the hours in the locker rooms, in the shower and... he visualized Malfoy's back when he was changing from his Quidditch attire to his school uniform. How he went from dirty clothes to fresh shirts that left no place to imagination about what was underneath. He was quite skinny, considering his hips that were quite...
Harry emerged from the water, his eyes sprung open. He realized he had looked at Malfoy's back - and at Malfoy's body altogether - more than he should have. He had watched as sweat drops ran along the smooth line of his spine and disappeared into his trousers. He had been distracted by how tight his boxers were and how they clung to his beau-... his ass in general. He had been attentive when the subtle muscles Malfoy had contracted and appeared even clearer than ever. And he realized that Malfoy could turn him on, as he was quite turned on right at this moment, in this very bath. He realized that the thin line of muscles was in Harry's darkest fantasies; the ones he didn't want to acknowledge. He realized that when Malfoy had turned around, Harry's gaze dropped immediately to his abs - maybe even lower but that would be for another epiphany.
Harry sighed. He shouldn't have taken this time to think about himself. He shouldn't have taken a bath to focus on his feelings because now, he was aware of his crush on Malfoy. Or the fact that he was attracted to him. Or even that he had been attracted to him for a while.
Although, when Harry thought harder about that, he concluded that it wasn't Malfoy in particular he had been drawn to, but men altogether. He realized that he looked at all butts, not only the ones of women, but those of men too. That he was looking at bodies, whatever the gender it belonged. Somehow, he considered the fact that he didn't care whether one was a guy or a girl. And he finally understood why he had felt as if something was missing. As if he finally realized why he had felt so out of place in his early years at Hogwarts.
Harry was lost in his epiphany, wondering on and on about his personality, his feelings, his place in this whole situation apart from being The Boy Who Lived. Apart from being the one who had to save the wizarding world.
He heard the door click and ducked underwater, holding his breath. He had reacted on instinct, prioritizing hiding before confrontation. Maybe he would be able to get out without this someone noticing. He wondered how he could do get out but somehow, he had some kind of hope. He could always make up some lie. 'Sorry, ahah, not a prefect but I ended up in here, and decided to hide because er... I'm the Chosen One?' He couldn't even come up with a story in his head, how would he be able to invent one in front of a Prefect? Hermione was right, he really was a pitiful liar.
Harry waited patiently, not moving at all, not wanting to draw attention to him if he were to move even an inch. Then, he saw two bony feet penetrate the water, then ankles, calves, knees and, much to Harry's bewilderment - although he shouldn't be surprised because he was in a bath - thighs and... crotch.
Harry couldn't help it and sprang up from the water, his face hot and stiff from embarrassment, to realize that he had been right: it was Draco Malfoy bathing in front of him. Not that he had paid particular attention to Malfoy to know exactly how his legs looked like, or how his freaking penis looked like by Merlin, but there wasn't so many prefects with milk-like skin. Not that he had looked at his skin but anyways, then wasn't the time to think about all that. First of all because he and Malfoy were both naked and second of all because he had found his attraction for Malfoy almost minutes ago. Oh, not to forget the part where he wasn't a prefect and was hiding underwater.
"Potter." Malfoy studied him from head to waist, not daring to look further down. Harry was thankful for that gesture. His voice was cold but edged on something close to curiosity. "What in Salazard's Name are you doing in here?" He glanced at the door and then back at Harry, and somehow he seemed almost... embarrassed?
"I'm taking a bath Malfoy; can't you see it?"
"I can bloody well see it, Potter, thanks for your concern." He sighed. "What I am asking is how come you are in here since you aren't - for all I know - a prefect yourself."
"Oh I just... Well Ron gave me the password, it's not a crime, I only wanted to take a bath."
"Well there are rules, Potter! Of course, the Weasel wouldn't remember that they are to be respected by Merlin but at least I would have expected better from your other friend. I should have known that the Boy Wonder would break this rule as well. Which one haven't you broken Potter? I'm curious now?"
Harry was silent for a minute and it was only after Malfoy made a noise of discontentment that he realized he had been staring. He then looked Malfoy in the eye and cleared his throat, trying to remember what the blond had said.
"Hum, could you repeat that?" and fail, much to Malfoy's misery.
"No wonder you have such bad grades, you cannot even listen to someone who speaks directly to you. I'm seriously asking myself how you were able to live this long."
"Seems like you spend a lot of time thinking about me."
The words had left his lips before he could stop them and to be honest, the look Malfoy gave him afterwards was worth it all.
"Don't you dare say anything about that, Potter! I do NOT think about YOU of all people, whatever your enormous ego might tell you !!" He nearly got out of the bath but seemed to remember something important and looked at Harry with renewed confidence. His usual smirk on fleek, he crossed his arms.
"Well I heard quite the same thing about you, Potter. You're having a hard time with your little crush on me, aren't you?"
"THAT'S NOT HOW IT IS YOU PRAT!!"
Harry all but stormed out of the bath and put his clothes on faster than he ever had before rushing out of the Prefects' Bathroom. He didn't care about how it might have seen on Malfoy's perspective but he was going out of there and never would go back. He was lost in his thoughts about Malfoy and how exactly it was, and wondering to himself again and again if Malfoy all but knew what was up.
He ran down the stairs and headed to the Gryffindor Common Room to find that all Gryffindor's where gathered around Hermione.
"What the hell is going on in here?"
"Harry! Well it's so nice of you to finally show up. We were just waiting for you actually." She smiled in a way that meant nothing good to Harry, and he certainly didn't want to find out. Although he should have known whom he was trying to outsmart.
Harry tried to make his way to the dorms but was stopped as Hermione cast an incarcerous on him. He fell and fought to get out of the ropes surrounding him but it seemed like he was going nowhere, judging by the look on Hermione's face.
"Harry dear, why would you want to run away? We're all friends here."
"You tied me up! Why should I do anything other than run away?! Hermione let me go." Harry looked at her right in the eye, more than serious. He didn't like being tied up in front of everyone. He might have been fine if they had just maintained him on the chair but this? It was too much.
Hermione didn't seem to care as she adverted her whole attention to the now interested audience.
"Now." She spoke with her best spokeswoman voice. "I would like to talk about a way to keep drinking within Hogwarts without Harry having to rant on and on about his nemesis, or his crush as we like to think." Harry shot her a look she ignored. He was growing impatient by the second. "I was thinking that we could all meet up every two weeks somewhere private. During those nights, we could play games or just talk and drink as we like. The shooter game will be replaced by entirely something else, but that'll be a surprise. So please, tell me who's interested in coming?" She smiled at the people gathered and almost everyone had raised their hand.
"Good, now, I'll proceed and charm every one of you so that your mind knows where to meet and when. Don't worry, that spell isn't like the Imperius Curse. You will have your own will; it will only be as if I already told you everything but that will prevent any problems with the staff. It's not written anywhere, the hour is delivered directly to your brain along with what you can bring, etc. I hope you are not afraid now that I said this?"
Just as Harry expected, everyone trusted Hermione. But he was impatient.
Harry started to fidget on his chair, trying his hardest to get out of the ropes. Some people glanced his way with worry all over their faces but none did a thing. It was infuriating to Harry. Ron was seated next to Seamus, in the opposite side of the room, and Harry could see that Hermione had bribed him into sitting still. Tension was building up inside of him, and he started to get dizzy in his effort to hold back his internal screaming.
And though he tried really hard, all he could focus on were the eyes of his fellow Gryffindors starring at him, like he was some kind of pitiful animal.
Harry wanted to scream at Hermione, but he growled her name, his eyes shooting daggers when she finally dared to look his way. She seemed surprised. Harry couldn't believe it, how could she not expect him to react this way? But he was so angry, so torn between screaming and breaking the ropes by mere force that he couldn't care less. "Release me." His words were firm and his voice quivered with barely controlled rage. He could feel people looking at him and whispering, but focused on Hermione. But as she did nothing, he grew even more angry.
"Release me Hermione! Right now!"
"Harry calm down I'm..." She was shivering, but Harry didn't pay her any mind.
"You are going to release me RIGHT THIS INSTANT. Hermione I'm not joking!!"
This time, she looked around, wondering what to do, and Harry couldn't control himself anymore.
He only shouted her name at full force and the windows started vibrating. He could feel his magic escape his grip but he let it go. He was still screaming at her, and the glass shattered, leaving only the window panes, empty, and the cold air swept inside.
Hermione was still frozen in Ron's arms, frightened more than she ever had been by Harry's outburst. But since she still didn't release him, his magic kept on escaping. The chairs and other furniture started vibrating as well and the students started running to their respective dorms.
Though what stopped it all was the look Harry saw in his friends' eyes.
They looked so scared, so helpless right at this moment, that Harry felt guilty. The vibrating stopped altogether and he felt the hair on his body go down. He looked at them, apologetic, and lowered his head. They made no move, but Harry felt the ropes disappear.
When he finally looked up, Hermione was sitting on the floor, Ron holding her hand. He glanced at Harry and looked down again.
"Harry I'm-..." She started.
"No Hermione. It's not your fault. I just..." Harry sighed. He didn't like seeing Hermione like that, and she had done nothing wrong, in the end. It was just him and his short temper and his uncontrollable magic. "I shouldn't have freaked out like I just did. I'm terribly sorry..."
Hermione held his gaze for a second and nodded. She smiled timidly and then laughed as if it had been nothing. The boys followed her in her moment of madness, to release the tension. They had been through so much together that it was nice to be by their side.
"If I can say so, mate" Ron started "That was some high-level magic you did there! You were without your wand and you still nearly exploded the whole Common Room. Even my parents cannot do that and I know for a fact that it is quite rare for a wizard to be able to do wandless magic, of this level, mind you."
"So there's one other thing I have that makes me different, isn't there. People used to gossip about the fact that I lived, that I spoke Parseltongue, that I did a whole bunch of things a teenager shouldn't have done, but now I have powerful magic that can't be controlled, and I don't need my wand. S'great."
"Harry, don't... We'll, Ron and I will tell them not to say anything, they understand you've been through a lot lately, with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and all that..."
"Thanks, 'Mione." He smiled at her, in his own comforting way, and they were back to the way they were. As if Harry didn't have a crazy amount of magic himself couldn't control. As if he was like any other wizard.
"Though, I don't understand why you broke apart because of the rope thing." And here's Ron, breaking the momentum.
Harry looked away. When he thought about it, he didn't really understand himself why he had freaked out so easily.
"I... I have run into Malfoy in the Prefects' Bathroom. I guess I was a bit worked up."
"How did you even end up in there you don't have the... RON."
"I swear I am sorry but Harry needs to go there come on that bath is awesome !!"
Hermione, let it go easily for once, looking at Ron with utter disbelief but also something sweet, something terribly beautiful.
She turned to Harry way too soon though. She had that glint in her eyes, the one she always had when she discovered something that the other boys had missed.
"Harry. Why would running into Malfoy make you break this easily? I mean, you've ran into each other more times than not, I don't know what changed that made you so... vulnerable."
Harry let his head fall and focused on the red carpet of the Common Room. He wasn't sure if telling his friends of his epiphany would be a good idea or not. He loved his friends, but maybe they weren't keen on accepting someone like him. Maybe they would reject him? But, maybe they wouldn't. It was worth the try.
"I have gone to the Prefects' Bathroom to think about myself. I haven't had the chance lately. I... I thought about what you say about my supposedly huge crush on Malfoy and I... I think that maybe, just maybe, you're right?"
Harry dared a glance in their direction, uncertainty written all over his own face, but what was on his friends' ones were only delight, amusement and a tiny bit of that
'I knew it' expression.
"Oh Harry. I knew it!"
Told you so.
"'Mione, that's rough." Ron smiled at Harry going for a pat on his shoulder. "You're still my best mate you know? Of course, you could have fallen in love with a cute, nice and friendly Hufflepuff and of course you chose the arrogant, whiny, bastard Slytherin... And yet, I don't think anyone else would have made sense. He makes you live, in a way. And you haven't been able to do so since a long time. I mean, you've been at each other's throats for merlin knows how many years so, yeah. Good luck. I still hate him though."
Harry couldn't believe it. Of course, the prospect of them accepting him had been one he was hoping for, but them actually doing so? He wanted to laugh for days. He was so happy.
"Doesn't explain why you were uptight."
He talked about Ron ruining the moment before but Hermione was quite gifted in the area as well.
"I ran into him. In the bath itself."
That shut Harry's friends up for a few moments, and he even thought that they were under a spell until they nearly screamed in disbelief.
Ron was the first who broke the silence, yet it scared Harry because he was whiter than a sheet.
"You mean, you were... naked? With Malfoy? Also naked?" Ron's face was redder than his hair but somehow he looked, interested?
"Don't you dare think that I did something to him, Ron it is not like that."
"But you said you realized you had a crush on him and before that you were in the bath with him? Come on Harry try to understand me..."
"Ron!! Come on you know me!! I would never-"
"Did you though?"
Both men turned their attention to Hermione, who was sheepishly looking at the ceiling, her cheeks tainted a faded pink.
Harry couldn't quite belive it. His two best friends were imagining Malfoy and him having sex in the Prefects' Bathroom. Whereas Harry would have lik- NO HE WOULDN'T.
"Listen, guys, what happens," Hermione looked at him wide-eyed and Ron flushed even more, "or what doesn't for the time being, is between Malfoy and me. I don't really want to share those things with you, for now that is."
They both nodded in agreement and looked at the stairs leading to the dormitories.
"We should go to bed, it's been a long day, hasn't it?"
Hermione as usual was the wisest, and the two boys still couldn't believe what they did to deserve her. Harry still wondered if he was under the protection of some
god or goddest or even some wizard that haunted him to protect Harry from harm. He was grateful, more than.
"It was a good idea, by the way, the game thing. I just hope people weren't too scared from my outburst from earlier."
Hermione smiled at him in her own motherly way and took his hand. She squeezed it once. "Harry, you saved us, they don't fear you, they respect you and we'll find a way for them to think you had your wand." When she said the last bit, her smile faded away.
"Why would that be necessary?"
Ron and Hermione shared a look and then looked at Harry, the same way they had when they learned about something awful and didn't want Harry to be hurt. He hated it.
"Tell me. I'm not a child anymore." But they still looked hesitant. "I have died already, this couldn't be worse."
"Harry..." Hermione began, glancing at Ron, which only angered Harry more, "Not many wizards are able to practice wandless and wordless magic. You are powerful, even more than the rest of us. You let your magic flow only a little bit and it destroyed the windows of the whole tower, Harry. No one, and I insist on the no one, has to know."
Hermione looked at him in a serious way. Harry knew he had no other choice but to listen to her. It was hard enough living as the Hero of the Wizarding World, people didn't have to know he had an immense source of magic inside of him.
He nodded and looked at the dormitories too.
"'Night, guys. We'll see each other at breakfast." He then turned to Ron. "And take your time Ron. I don't need you to be next to me every minute of my life."
They both smiled and Harry went to his own bed.
He had thought that the game was a good idea. He had been wrong. Dead wrong.
First of all, it happened in the Room of Requirement, which had been burned down because of Crabbe. It hadn't been a nice memory for any of the people involved. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Goyle and Malfoy all looked sombre when they got inside. It was as if they wandered back in a nightmare. The piles where nowhere to be seen, and Harry wondered if Hermione had designed a complete different place so that the memories wouldn't be too hard. But it still smelled like smoke and ash. The burning smell lingering in the walls, as if the Room itself couldn't help but hurt too. It was crazy, Harry realized. And yet, he still looked at Hermione, in hope she could give him the strengh to move, or even breathe.
Hermione was doing rather fine and Harry started to breathe. His whole body ached remembering, and he wanted nothing else but run away. He could see from the corner of his eye that he wasn't the only one who wanted to. And yet, Hermione stood still, strong in the way she held herself but Harry could still see her hands shaking.
She was still in total control of herself when she spoke up. Her voice didn't even quiver. Harry wondered how she was able to do that when he was frozen on the spot, unable to look at the Room. It had been crazy to bring them in. It had been a bad idea. Harry knew it. She should have choosen any other place but this one, and yet, here they were.
Malfoy looked sick. Goyle was fixating the floor. Ron fidgeted and looked everywhere, as if he expected to Room to burst in flames once again. And Harry only stood there, looking every bit the frightened teenage boy that he was.
"Now that everyone is here, let us explain what the new Game consists in. Pansy? Would you mind enlightening our fellow students a bit?"
"Gladly Granger." Both girls smiled, but Parkinson's lips stretched in a mischievious way. "Hello again everyone. The name's Pansy Parkinson, if you don't know me yet, it is truly sad. But today, I'm just a mere host in this - dare I say - awesome party we planned with Gingerbread over here." She motionned to Hermione and winked playfuly. "Let's say we both found out that both of our houses were doing the same kind of game : The Malfoy & Potter Shooter Game. That childish behaviour wasn't really matching our skills. So we decided to indulge ourselves in a whole new level of drinking game." She looked around the Room, but no one said a thing, everyone was listening, glued to her lips, entranced by her words.
"We - as in the ball of fluff next to me and myself" another quick wink in Hermione's direction, which owed her a blush. "decided to gather you all here to start the Ultimate Game." She paused for drama's sake. "Fear not children for you won't die tonight."
"Speed up, Pansy. Or I'll head back to my dorm right this minute."
Malfoy had spoken up for the first time since they entered the Room. Harry realized he indeed looked irritated with the whole set up. He couldn't help but smirk at the thought. Malfoy caught him but said nothing. Pansy spoke again.
"Of course, Draco dear, I'm getting to the juicy stuff." There were worried glaces exchanged between the students. "This is like a simple Truth or Dare game, though it is not as simple. Gingerbread ?"
Hermione nodded. "As Pansy said, you don't need to be scared. We managed to get some help from the Ravenclaws so that you won't do anything you don't consent to. It is our priority that you don't feel pressured."
"Exactly. We charmed some pieces of parchement in a hat, called the Sorting Hat, each of them will give either a truth or a dare. The questions and dares will fly out of the hat by themselves when the hat is satisfied. Yet, the hat is satisfied when we are." Pansy's smirk grew wider. Most students gulped. "The dares and questions will grow in intensity. Though, they won't ask things you aren't confortable with. You won't be triggered by anything in here. The charm has been made so that you feel safe when playing." There were relief sighs all over the Room.
"But we talked about a drinking game, right Pans' ?" Hermione laughed. "Each dare can be escaped by drinking, if you don't want to do it."
"The goal isn't to make you drink against your will and end up with puking teenagers all over. There is firewhiskey for those who want, other beverages, alcohol or not, and you're free to drink whenever you want. Though, as for the Shooter Games, you won't have your glasses filled with anything you don't want."
"Oh one little thing again! The shooters will appear before you when it's your turn, and if you express the need, you'll have a glass. So now that this is all clear, let's start."
"Wait, Pans'!" All heads turned to Hermione. "Since we don't want you all to feel pressured, we'll all take a shot of a potion that'll help us feel safe. We're not here as ennemies, but as friends. Also, for those who don't drink, you'll feel tipsy with us, but won't loose control of your body, and as soon as the game is finished you'll be back to normal."
"Thanks, Gingerbread. Now, LET THE SORTING BEGIN!!"
There was a round of applause, but the smile Hermione shot Harry was frightening.
That was how it all started. They sat in a circle and positionned the hat in the middle. Just like the girls had explained, the truths and dares shot right out of the hat and came in front of the person who should start. Dean was the Chosen One, for once. The glass filled and emptied easily and almost everyone had fun. Almost.
Harry wasn't having fun. He didn't have any interest in the game in itself and drinking was his way of escaping it all. Yet, some things caught his interest. It was when Malfoy got one of the strangest questions.
"What is your favorite color? This game is stupid! I won't answer this! I'm not a child anymore!!" Malfoy looked so stubborn but what most stuck Harry was the fact that not only did he look ashamed but also... flushed?
"Why don't you answer, darling?" Blaise asked. "Is there something you need to hide?"
Harry felt uneasy. He didn't know why exactly, but he was sure it had somethign to do with the fact that Blaise had a hand around Malfoy's waist. He wanted to puke.
"No. There's nothing to hide." He then looked at Harry. "I like green. Happy?"
"No surprise for a Slytherin." Ron commented, but Harry couldn't help and stare because Malfoy still looked at him even as he spoke.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, weasel."
The snarl that followed was edging on sensual and Harry couldn't help but fixate the way Dr-... Malfoy's lips curled. He was brought back to reality when the sorting hat shoot a paper in his direction. Instantly, five shots of firewhiskey lined up in front of him. He took the paper, not yet reading it, but looking at the faces all around him, stopping on Malfoy's. He gulped and then looked at the piece of parchment, still a bit scared. Five glasses meant the dare or the truth would either be real embarrassing or quite difficult. Either way, Harry didn't want to risk anything.
"Give your clothes to the wizard who was chosen last. You can keep your underwear."
Harry looked at Malfoy again. He pondered what were his options for a moment, the potion they had taken making him feel safe anyways. Yet, this was Malfoy they were talking about. He would have Harry's clothes. Hell, Harry would be in his boxers in front of everyone.
"Come on, Potter, it's not like nobody's seen you in the Quiddich locker rooms." Malfoy snarled in his usual mocking tone. "Won't be the first time, Potty."
Harry felt his cheeks burn all of a sudden. But he thought about something. He thought about his scars and what it would mean if everyone saw them. He looked at his hands, calloused. He wasn't perfect. He wasn't the perfect Chosen Boy they all thought he was. He wasn't even handsome.
Harry was lost in thought but he realized he might have freaked out a little, because the shots in front of him started moving. He looked up to see Hermione throw him a worried glare.
He took the shots. One by one, and the vibrations stopped.
"Not that courageous of a Gryffindor are you?"
"Shut it, Malfoy" said Hermione. "Harry, the potion seems too weak to work on you... So, indulge yourself."
Harry dropped the subject and the game kept going. His turn was forgotten soon enough, but he shouldn't have thought he'd be safe for so long.
The Sorting Hat had thrown a dare to him. And to be honest, he had drank quite a few times between his last turn, and the six shots in front of him, although did look quite appealing, weren't his choice for now.
"Take off your shirt." And laughing, Harry did. In his state, he nearly missed the inhale everyone took.
Harry is quite hairy you see. Not the heavy type, Just the perfect type of hairy one can be. He is slightly muscular, a war gives you that, and most of all, he has scars all over his torso. Some are from the Triwizard Tournament, but the most imposant one is the one right between his ribcages. A dark one, like an ink splotch. The last Killing Curse he recieved, before dying and being brought back to life, all that drama.
Harry hadn't told his friends about this one. He hadn't told anyone.
"Harry I-.."
"It's nothing Hermione." He smiled her way. "It's a game, let's have fun."
Harry let his shirt fall to the floor and smiled in his own nervous way. He shot a glance to Malfoy and winked at him before going back to his seat. The face Malfoy made was priceless, and Harry couldn't help but let a small laugh escape his lips. Malfoy had been so red, his eyes wide and roaming over Harry, but the moment Harry winked, he swallowed and cursed under his breath. Such a prude, Harry thought.
The tension disappeared, replaced by a new wave of entertainment. Hermione and Pansy exchanged a look. It seemed that Harry had solicited the full attention of the room. But the only one he wanted to catch was Malfoy's.
"Seems like I'm not the only one having a crush on someone, Malfoy."
Harry saw the boy looking straight at him. He couldn't help but laugh once more.
"Shut it, Potter!" The boy snarled.
"You wish."
Their shared moment broke when it was someone else's turn. And yet, Harry still looked Malfoy's way when he could. He was even more amused when Malfoy returned them.
The game had really started, it seemed.
And it kept going until it was pure chaos. As funny as it was to watch Ron and Goyle's attempt at dancing, Harry didn't really feel like he could stay in the room any longer.
The reason? Malfoy.
While Pansy and Hermione were having fun by themselves and the others were drinking while dancing to the music, Malfoy was on Blaise's lap, moving his hips like no tomorrow.
He was rocking his hips on Blaise all the while looking straight at Harry. His hair was messed up and he looked wrecked. And Harry wondered if it was the face he made when he was...
The bitting of lips and smile, half-lidded eyes and moans, and it took every nerve in Harry's body not to jump him right now. Oh how much he wanted to be in Blaise's place right then. How he wanted to know how Malfoy would feel just like that, on him. Harry felt every move of smooth hips in his very core. The game hadn't stopped, and had caused this mess, but Harry was somehow thankful. After all he could roam his eyes all he wanted on Malfoy's exposed body.
And then he felt the sheer need to touch him. The alcohol had made him feel so good for now and yet he wanted more. He needed to have the pale boy near him.
Harry locked eyes with Malfoy and smiled in his own crooked way, delighted in the way Malfoy shivered. He bit his bottom lip and lifted his hand, motioning Malfoy to come to him. The boy only smiled and mouthed a "no" before rocking hard on Blaise. Harry didn't like that. He felt the last thread of his control escape him as he motionned once more, looking every bit determined. That was when Malfoy was pulled to him, much to everyone's surprise.
Harry knew he had done wandless magic just now, but he didn't care because Malfoy was so close to him he could smell his cologne and feel white strands of hair on his face.
Malfoy seemed so amazed that he shivered some more, looking at Harry with every bit of arousal he felt.
Harry's hands flew to Malfoy's hips and he pressed the boy against him, groaning as he did so. He had waited the entire evening, and now he was on him.
"Had fun, dancing like that?" Harry all but growled, watching Malfoy gasp audibly. "You looked so beautiful like that. But you look even better on me, if I'm being honest."
"What are you playing at ,Potter?" Malfoy whispered, every bit of venom disappeared from his voice.
"M'not playing, Draco" This time Draco moaned at the name. Harry laughed. "Like it when I call you Draco?" The boy aswered by rolling his hips aginst Harry's.
"Harry... " Draco whispered against Harry's lips. He looked gorgeous like that, with his cheeks red and lips so dangerously attracting...
"Should I kiss you?"
He didn't even register Draco's answer that he was crashing their lips together, hands tightening on the blonde's hips. The kiss was frantic, needy, and every bit like them that it felt so right in that moment. They unlocked lips to look in each others' eyes before diving in again, smiles playing on their faces, while they became breathless with the feeling of the other against them.
All the while Draco was still moving his hips in that hypnotic fashion. Harry reciprocated the movement and the noise Draco did, muffled by lips, was straight up fantasy.
Need filled Harry's veins and exploded through him as he let his hands roam further down, gropping Draco's butt. He massaged the cheeks all the while drinking in every sound he was drawing from Draco.
It was intoxicating, the way their heats were mindling together. The way Draco's scent, even though it was that ridiculously expensive cologne et always wore, was all Harry could breathe in. And he didn't even want to make a snide remark about it becouse right then there was only Them, and nothing else mattered. The way Draco was muttering Harry, Harry, Harry... like some prayer, and how he was clinging to him, gripping his hair for dear life... It was drawing Harry insane how he could still pull all the right strings and make Harry his.
The kisses didn't stop. It was all teeth and weird angles and they seemed like they were never going to synch but in a way, they already were. All these imperfections in their kiss, all the biting, the roughness, it was like them. When they parted with a small pop, their lips wet and linked with their shared saliva, Harry couldn't help but watch Draco's flushed face, Draco's perfect flushed face with all his rough angles and small stubble.
"See something you like, Potter?" Draco all but breathed his way, heart beating fast.
"You could at least call me Harry." He kissed Draco's cheek and then his throat, and made a line down his neck, stopping to suck on his collarbones. "And I quite like what I see, thank you for your concern."
To prove his point, he pulled Draco back against him, begging silently for those sinful hips to move. And though he could feel the smirk on the Slytherin, he didn't care. He just wanted this moment to last for as long as he wanted it to.
"Potter..."
No answer, and Harry all but pressed him even closer. Draco was gasping and pulling on his hair and moaning and it was so so much that Harry didn't know if he'd be able to resist the urge to jump him right there.
"Harry!" This time Harry stopped and looked Draco in the eyes. "We... We shouldn't be doing this here..."
There was a second during which Harry wondered what he was talking about but then he remembered. "You're right..." He smiled. "Cling to me, Draco, and have faith in me."
"What are-.." He didn't leave time for complaints and apparated straight to his room, breaking some of the wards of the Castle in the process and not even caring. He had Draco on his bed after all. "Harry you!"
"You can fantasize about this all you want after I take care of you. Right now I don't want to deal with that." He was already unbuttoning Draco's button-down, kissing every bit of skin he could find.
"That was dangerous." Draco mused, and Harry scoffed.
"Yes, I know." Harry was growing tired.
"You apparated us while drunk. You could have splinched us apart!" The prat was still talking. Harry needed to find a way to shut him up.
"I could have. But it didn't happen, did it?"
"But-but... The Castle Wards!! You broke them and yo-... Mmmmh..." Harry was taking care of his nipples. Licking until they were hard, and then biting softly.
"Finally you shut up." Harry laughed, bringing his other hand to pinch and twist the other one, happy with the noises Draco made.
But he wanted more.
He slipped the shirt off Draco and trailed kissed down to his underwear, slightly trembling. His breath was coming in short puffs of air, his heart beating like crazy. He stopped when he felt the scar tissue under his lips but said nothing, only lapped them from starting point to end. This drew the most beautiful sound from Draco, and Harry did it again, and again, until Draco was a mumbling mess underneath him.
"Didn't know you liked it that much... Never would have thought you were the kind to have a scar kink."
"Well... Who would have thought? S'not like you are the kind to have much scars."
Harry's head shot up right away and he studied Draco's face in awe. "Am I your kink, Draco?" The Slytherin boy became so red it was almost alarming, but Harry kissed his cheeks, taking his head in his hands.
"Shut it, Scarface!"
"I'm going to reming you of this all the time, you know it."
"I know! Now stop and get on with it!"
And Harry did. And though he was hesitant at first, the fact that Draco was looking at him as if he was precious made him confident enough. He took his time stretching him, with the lube that was left in the dormitory, hands shaking still. He asked a hundred times if it was okay, if it hurt, if he was fine, and all the sappy stuff. And when Draco was finally ready, Harry entered him so slowly, all the while hiding in his neck. It was so intese, so hot, so tight and so beautifully perfect he might have come right away if not for the pleas of the boy writhing underneath him.
He managed to keep his orgasm for a few minutes, stroking Draco in synch with his thrusts. And when they finally came, it was mind-blowing.
Harry had the mind to fall by Draco's side, avoiding the crushing and the cursing that would have followed. He glanced his way, still scared he might get cursed. But when Draco turned his head and they locked eyes, it was obvious he wouldn't leave.
Harry cast a few cleaning charms on both of them and drew the covers on them.
"You have to stop all the wandless magic and incredible power. I can't compete with that."
"Who told you to compete with me? After all I'm the Golden Boy, you don't stand a-... ouch!"
Draco had pinched his side.
"You deserve it." He then came closer to Harry and kissed him, slowly, on the lips.
"Now let me sleep."
He closed his eyes and shortly his chest was heaving with regular breaths. Harry smiled to himself, and put an arm around his Slytherin. He knew that in the morning, Hedmistress MacGonagall would want to have a word with him, maybe about breaking a few dozen rules. But he didn't care, because right then, there was only Them that mattered.