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They were an odd group. Despite having spent the last two months living together, it was still awkward to try and forget old rivalries and prejudices. Harry, however, didn’t have the energy to care about house politics anymore. Usually they were busy enough with their studies that awkward situations could easily be avoided. However, it was now the fourth day that classes had been cancelled due to the constant rain, sleet, and snow storms plaguing most of the castle where the charms meant to fix the damaged walls and rooves had broken down. House elves had been bringing meals to the common rooms to which students were restricted while the teachers and a dispatch from the Ministry worked on solving the problem.
The eighth year dorms were small since it didn’t even need to house a full year of students, yet confined as they were, everyone seemed to be in each other’s way. At last Ernie Macmillan had rallied a large group to the common room where they were currently engaged in a debate on what game they should play. Justin Finch-Fletchley suggested a Wizard’s Chess tournament, and Padma Patil mentioned Exploding snap which was shot down by Parvati and Lavender. Seamus didn’t say much of anything, but sat next to Dean with his arms crossed across his chest.
“What about Truth or Dare?” Harry found himself saying. Hermione and Ron laughed next to him remembering when they had taught the game to the Wealseys one summer evening. A few other students grinned, but most of them looked confused.
“What exactly is that?” Pansy Parkinson asked. Harry ignored her tone. Pansy always sounded annoyed.
“It’s a muggle game where…”
“A muggle game?” Parkinson snorted. Zambini also had a look of disdain on his face.
“Got something against muggles do you?” Dean Thomas asked his hand clutching his wand.
“Shut up, Pansy,” Malfoy said in a drawl. “Let Potter finish. The game sounds terribly fascinating. Unless you somehow still have work after four days of being locked in this place that you would rather go do.”
Pansy pursed her lips and glared at Malfoy, but he rolled his eyes at her.
“It’s simple really,” Harry continued. He was used to Parkinson and Malfoy’s antics by now. The blonde was particularly sarcastic; Harry had discovered. Malfoy had always been too busy throwing insults and curses for him to notice before. His hearing at the Ministry seemed to have taken much of the fight out of him, and he never responded with anything sharper than sarcasm, even to the Gryffindors.
“You get asked truth or dare by someone,” Hermione said, and Harry realized he had let his mind wander. It happened often these days. Like Malfoy and Parkinson’s dichotomy, no one seemed to notice when Hermione finished what Harry was saying before he drifted away from the present. “If you pick truth, you have to honestly answer whatever question you’re asked or you take a drink. If you pick dare, you have to do what they tell you or you take a drink. I don’t suppose someone has any alcohol around?”
“I’ve got some,” Dean and Ernie said simultaneously. They laughed and both accioed their bottles which were then placed in the center by Hermione.
“Right then,” Hermione said, “who wants to go first?”
“I will,” Justin said. “Us muggleborn will show them purebloods how it’s done.” Harry wished everyone would stop making everything about blood. Younger students proudly boasted of being muggleborn these days with an arrogance that reminded Harry of pureblood supremacy. It was exhausting.
“Hermione,” Justin said. “Truth or dare.”
“Truth,” Hermione said.
Justin grinned. “Advada, Fuck, Marry. Draco, Blaise,” the others began to laugh, “Pansy.”
“I need a drink,” Pansy said snatching a freshly poured glass of fire whiskey from Ernie, but there was a grin on her face. The grin could also be found on the faces of the other Slytherins. Harry felt a sense of impending doom wash over him. At the same time, he wondered what they could really throw at him that was worse than they already had. It wasn’t like they had some Death Eaters hiding in the cupboard.
Hermione met Justin’s eyes and said without hesitation. “Advada Malfoy, Fuck Pansy, Marry Zambini.”
Her answer was met with some catcalls. Parkinson said, “Sorry Draco love, even you can’t compete with my looks and Blaise’s bank account.”
“Alright settle down,” Ernie called everyone back to order.
“Pansy,” Hermione said. “Truth or dare.”
“Dare,” Pansy said with a boldness Harry knew was due to her ignorance of Hermione’s devious side.
“I dare you to give Justin a lap dance without your shirt on.” Parkinson rolled her eyes and stood up. Justin was beat red. Dean began tapping out a beat with his wand on the bottle. Everyone was laughing, clearly too sober to not be embarrassed. Parkinson slowly sank down onto Justin’s lap unbuttoning her blouse one button at a time. Harry at to admit her technique was pretty good. Justin, Dean and Neville all seemed to think so, he noticed. They all were supporting dumbstruck looks. He elbowed Ron next to him only to turn and see Ron was all flushed. Interesting, Harry thought.
“What?” Ron asked.
“Nothing, sorry,” Harry said lamely. Parkinson was rolling her hips and shimmying around.
“Oh dear, Merlin, make it stop,” Padma said. Parkinson flipped her off as she finished up the dance. She went back to her seat leaving her shirt discarded next to a bright red Justin who was trying to hide his arousal.
“Padma, truth or dare?” Parkinson asked.
“Truth,” Padma said.
“Who did you lose your virginity to?” Padma picked up her cup and drank. Parkinson smiled. “Typical.” A few of the guys snorted, and Parvati looked slightly annoyed on her sister’s behalf.
Padma proceeded to dare Ernie to perform his own rendition of Celestina Warbeck’s A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love. Ernie then asked Lavender if she and Parvati had ever experimented with each other. She said it was more than experimentation, and Parvati glared at her and took a drink. Lavender dared Blaise to kiss Dean, who rather seemed to like it Harry noticed. Then Blaise dared Parvati to kiss Padma, but she drank while Seamus, Ernie, and Neville pelted Blaise with Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans for even suggesting it. A group vote was called and Blaise was made to take a shot.
And on the daring and truth telling went, until they were all more than a bit sloshed. For his bit, Harry confessed to having a thing for Cedric fourth year, and he admitted to never getting past kissing with Ginny. He drank when he was ordered to kiss Hermione, telling her it was nothing personal. She assured him she was perfectly fine with that decision. Meanwhile, Dean gave a strip dance while Harry acted as the pole, and when Pansy was asked to order the men in rank of most fuckable, he came in at third before Justin but after Draco, who was second, and Ron to everyone’s surprise who was first. Ron’s ears were still red.
“Draco,” said Dean who was now sitting in Seamus’s arms. “Truth or dare.”
Draco hesitated before deciding. “Dare.”
Dean snuggled in against Seamus and said, “I dare you to kiss Harry Potter.”
Harry felt his heart beat quicken. Malfoy reached for his drink and to his surprise, Harry felt disappointment seep through him.
“Don’t be such a wimp,” Parkinson said as Malfoy brought the drink to his lips. Malfoy chugged his entire drink then stood up walked over to Harry, whose heart was pounding. He could hear catcalls from the others, but the world seemed to fade away as Draco Malfoy. Beautiful, blonde, irritating, sarcastic Draco Malfoy straddled his lap. Harry didn’t move from his reclined position leaning back against arms. His whole body was frozen with anticipation.
Malfoy grabbed his face and Harry closed his eyes, preparing himself for Draco to pull them hard together in rough kiss. But then Malfoy’s lips gently brushed against his. He gasped in surprise. Malfoy slid his tongue inside Harry’s mouth and Harry lost himself in the gentle licks and swirls of the Slytherin boy’s tongue. One of Malfoy’s hands gently removed his glasses while the other tugged through his hair, increasing Harry’s arousal. Harry considered that he should probably shove Malfoy off him now, but that seemed like a stupid thing to do.
Malfoy began kissing him with greater urgency. His tongue was fiercer now and their teeth clanked together. Malfoy pulled away, but Harry was not disappointed for long, as he began to kiss and nip his way down Harry’s neck. It took a fierce reminder of everyone else’s presence to keep Harry from moaning with pleasure. This was going to bruise he thought. Malfoy returned back to Harry’s lips with a few last kisses, then pulled away. Harry looked straight into Malfoy’s blue eyes. He had no idea what the other boy was thinking. Silence filled the room louder than any catcalling could have.
“Well now we know Draco is an exhibitionist,” Dean said. A few chuckles broke out easing the tension in the room. Harry had only eyes for Malfoy though.
“Hardly news,” Blaise muttered.
“Truth or dare, Potter,” Malfoy said with a glint in his eye.
“Truth,” Harry whispered back.
Malfoy leaned forward and whispered directly into his ear, but loud enough for the others to hear, “What was it like to die?”
Harry shoved Draco off of him, “Fuck off, Malfoy.”
A few cups of Fire Whiskey spilled over, and Malfoy laughed. Ron was on his feet with his wand out. Hermione was at Harry’s side ready to placate him. Harry gripped his wand hard in his hand. What the fuck was wrong with Malfoy kissing him like that and then asking that question? He took a deep breath as the new school therapist was always on him to do when he got angry. He gently shooed Hermione away.
“Sit down, Ron,” Harry said calmly. Draco was standing up now. His clothes dry due to a charm cast by Pansy and the cups in place thanks to Ernie. Hermione held out a cup for him to take a drink from but Harry shook his head. Harry stood and moved so he was inches away from Malfoy. “It was peaceful. I was standing at King’s Cross Station, and Dumbledore was there. He told me I could take a train and see my parents again, Sirius, Cedric, Lupin, Dobby, everyone who was ever taken unjustly. He said, because a part of me still lived on in Voldemort, I could also return. But where I was, I felt no pain, no worry, no fear. No one could hurt me again. Then I remembered. The entire British wizarding world was depending on me, so I left. I returned to my body, which felt too small, like a cage. I could feel every wound like it was fresh, and every emotion hit me like stunner to the chest. Dying is peaceful, living is agony.”
“Harry,” Hermione said softly.
Harry broke his eye contact with Malfoy to look at Hermione. “Living is agony if you forget why you’re living.” He looked back a Malfoy, who refused to look anything but sure of himself. “That’s what it was like to die.” Harry paused, then said. “Truth or dare, Malfoy?”
“Truth.”
Harry smirked. “What was it like to be saved by me, twice?”
Draco narrowed his eyes to a glare, but Harry thought he saw a hit of something else. “Apparently it wasn’t as great as dying would have been.”
“Good,” Harry said, sitting back down. “I’d hate for you to think I was letting you off easy by saving your ungrateful, evil, little arse.”
“My arse isn’t little,” Draco muttered.
“If you two are done with your little moment,” Parkinson said annoyed, “then the rest of us would like to return to our game.”
“Fine,” Malfoy sneered. “Finnigan, truth or dare?”
“Dare,” Seamus said, Dean still in his lap.
“Ask Thomas out or stop asking so jealous anytime the rest of us poofs take advantage of what you aren’t.” Seamus sputtered angrily, but Dean grinned, kissed him and said, “Yes, please.”
Malfoy sank to the ground where he stood, which meant Harry was stuck looking at the back of the stupid git’s head. Despite Malfoy acting like the prick he was, Harry now knew with a certainty that he wanted nothing more than to reach out and run his fingers through his soft blonde hair. He also realized that by kissing Malfoy back in front of his peers, that probably counted as coming out as not straight.
Harry glanced around the circle, but no one was staring at him or Malfoy anymore. Everyone was watching Padma and Neville dance while Justin sang a very bad rendition of the Weird Sister song ‘Do the Hippogriff.’ His hands itched to reach forward and grab the collar of Malfoy’s clearly very expensive shirt so that he would fall back into his lap like how Dean was lounging in Seamus’. Had Malfoy intentionally turned so that Harry could see the profile of his lips mouthing every word along with Justin’s performance?
Harry stood up and went over to where the alcohol collection had grown and poured fire whiskey into a cup. With the fresh cup he turned to go back to his seat, but Malfoy had leaned backwards on his arms filling in his spot. The blonde turned and stared at him. Harry took a swig and looked away. Justin was attempting to transfigure his cup into a butt plug. A dare curtesy of Ernie.
Harry glanced back at Malfoy. Everyone else was starting to get sweaty from the heat of the fire and copious amount of alcohol. But Malfoy looked impossibly unaffected. The white collar of his probably 50 galleon designer shirt was crisp. The top two buttons were undone giving a glimpse of his chest underneath. His blonde hair caught the firelight in a way that… highly disturbed him. This was Malfoy and even if Malfoy was hot and even if no one cared about sexual identity in the Hogwarts 8th year that didn’t mean that harboring feelings for Draco Malfoy could end him anywhere except for in a lot of drama.
Harry backed away from the group happy to notice that Hermione and Ron were so consumed by the game that they weren’t taking notice of him. Neville sent him a look though which Harry dismissed with a smile and tugging on his shirt collar to indicate that he was hot. Before anyone else took notice, he slipped out into the corridor.
The 8th years had all been housed together in a suite of rooms towards the bottom of the astronomy tower. It had become a habit of his to climb to the top when he was overwhelmed. Harry wasn’t sure what he would do when he reached the top, but he didn’t want to spend the rest of the night resisting touching Malfoy and wanting to kiss him. It wasn’t a new thought. Ever since Ginny broke up with him in October, he had been questioning his sexuality. Malfoy had always been in his thoughts, and Malfoy was good looking, so it only made sense to fantasize about him. But that’s all they were: fantasies.
The sensation of Malfoy’s soft lips on his and the way his tongue had flicked in and out of his mouth filled his mind. Harry picked up the pace as he climbed the stairs trying to forget the feel of Malfoy’s hands on his body. When Harry finally summited the staircase, he was met by the gloriously cold, fresh Scottish air. The drafty nature of the room had made Astrology lessons in his early years dreadful during the winter months, but it suited well for a good sobering up.
The moon and stars were out lighting up the castle and grounds. Harry leaned against the ice-cold glass of the doors and sighed. He had defeated Voldemort, the Ministry under Kingsley was rounding up remaining Death Eaters, and the 8th years were practically having an orgy in the new age of House cooperation. What did it mean to be the Boy Who Lived now that they had won? Harry threw back a sip of the drink he was still carrying.
“And in his natural habitat the Boy Who Wallowed can be found haunting the coldest most depressing places of Hogwarts Castle instead of enjoying delights of teenage debauchery with his friends.”
“Bugger off, Malfoy,” Harry said without moving, but his entire body reacted like he had been shot with adrenaline. “I’m tired.”
“Ah yes,” Malfoy sauntered further into the room. “The agony of living is incredibly exhausting.”
“Why are you here?” Harry took another swig of his fire whiskey. Looking at Malfoy across the Astronomy Tower reminded him of the last time they had been up here together. He shuddered and drank again.
Malfoy held up the bottle. “Thought you might want a refill, Potter.”
Harry snorted in disbelief but held out his glass. Malfoy crossed the rest of the distance between them. His free hand slid around the glass to stabilize it while he poured. His fingers were warm and soft against Harry’s. Malfoy held up the bottle. “To Harry Potter the Boy Who,” Harry tensed, “got everyone plastered.”
Harry flashed an annoyed look but drank. “To Draco Malfoy the Boy Who is incredibly irritating.”
Malfoy shrugged and tossed back another swallow. He walked away and ran his fingers along the large metal hoops of the statue at the center of the tower. “To Harry Potter the Boy Who seemed to enjoy me kissing him.”
Malfoy didn’t look back at him which was irritating as it made it impossible to know what the hell he was thinking. “To Draco Malfoy the Biggest Prick.”
Malfoy spun around and leaned against the railing his arms spread open like he was putting himself on display. “To Harry Potter who wants to see my very big prick.”
Meeting Harry’s eyes he raised the bottle, and they drank. In fact, Harry downed the rest of his drink. “What is this, Malfoy? What do you want?”
Some of the mirth left Malfoy’s features and Harry wished he could put it back. But what were they doing? The past months they had danced around each other with pleasantries and the occasional quip. One year of school and then they wouldn’t have to see each other again. One year of demonstrating to the underclassmen and the British wizarding world that there could be healing and forgiveness following the war. Why was Malfoy pushing limits? Why was he complicating things?
“I thought I had made that rather obvious.” Malfoy folded his arms across his chest. If he kissed the corner of that pout, Harry wondered if it would turn into a smile.
“Ah yea, a quick shag so you can sell the sordid tale to Rita Skeeter or some other Prophet bloodsucker.”
Malfoy’s grip on the bottle tightened and his face hardened. “Right. Yea, because that would make me popular with the people. I’m sure everyone would love to hear about me shagging the Golden Boy. Definitely would help decrease the number of death threats that get sent my way.”
Harry flinched as he recalled the number of Howlers that had been received in the first weeks of Hogwarts’ reopening. Malfoy received the most graphic and horrific messages, but he wasn’t the only one. Eventually McGonagall had to hire a Post Master and ward the Great Hall against owl deliveries.
The silence stretched between them. “Truth or dare, Malfoy.”
They met each other’s eyes. “Truth.”
“What do you plan to do after the school year?” Malfoy raised his eyebrows. Harry shrugged to hide his embarrassment. “I never imagined a life beyond killing Voldemort.”
“Are you looking for job advice?” Malfoy scoffed.
“I just wondered –”
“I’ll move into the Manor with Mother, maybe get a studio somewhere. Some potions work perhaps. I don’t need money, and no one is going to want to hire me.” Though he said it with a cavalier intonation, Harry could tell, from all those years studying Malfoy, that he wasn’t as unconcerned as he wanted everyone to believe.
“What if places would hire you?”
Malfoy laughed. “You already saved the world, don’t go trying to save me.”
“Too late for that,” Harry muttered.
Malfoy made a face. “Truth or dare, Potter.”
“Dare.” Harry wished there was a table or something he could set his glass on because he wanted both hands free to kiss Malfoy. That is what Malfoy would dare him to do, wasn’t it?
“I dare you to throw that glass into the wall.” Disappointment welled inside of Harry, so he did the only thing he could do and threw his glass hard into the wall of the Astronomy Tower. It did help him feel better.
“Truth or dare.”
“Truth.” Harry groaned in frustration, or did he? Was that out loud? Fuck. Malfoy was smirking, his arms once more crossed over his chest. The glass of fire whiskey was hitting hard, and all Harry could think about was the triangle of skin at Malfoy’s neck. It should be illegal for him to have his shirt unbuttoned like that.
“What do you want me to ask you? Why do you keep picking truth?”
“Why do you keep picking dare, Potter?”
Harry couldn’t help but stare at Malfoy’s lips as he spoke. “You picked truth. Answer the question.”
Malfoy looked Harry up and down. It was the most intimate thing Harry had ever been subjected to, and he’d had two girlfriends! He suppressed a shudder. “I don’t know what I want you to ask.” Was Malfoy nervous? He set the bottle of fire whiskey on the floor and stepped towards Harry. “I thought there might be things you wanted to ask me.”
“Like what?” Harry asked breathing in the cold night air in the hopes that it would decrease the rate of his fast-beating heart.
Malfoy shook his head and stepped closer. “About the war, my beliefs. About regret.”
Was this meant to be serious or seduction? Harry was desperately trying to not be incredibly turned on but he could smell the scent of Malfoy’s, no doubt very expensive, cologne. “Er, do you, um, regret anything, Draco?”
Malfoy’s eyes darted to Harry’s traitorous lips. “Many things.”
“Oh,” Harry said. Malfoy stepped closer. “Anything, er, in particular?”
“I wanted to be your friend,” Malfoy said. “When we first came to Hogwarts. I wish that had happened. I think it could have changed things.” Malfoy grabbed the bottom of Harry’s latest Weasley sweater. “The green looks good with your eyes, Harry.” Draco emphasized his name, and Harry swallowed. “That’s a Slytherin color.”
“Dare,” Harry said.
Malfoy released Harry’s sweater. “I dare you to be friends with me.”
“No,” Harry said before he had time to think. “I don’t want to be friends.” Malfoy stepped back, his eyes wide. Before he could go any further, Harry reached out and grabbed his arms. He pulled the other boy towards him and brought their lips together. He moved one of his hands into Draco’s hair and smiled to discover that it was even softer than he had imagined it.
Draco melted into Harry’s kisses and Harry spun them around and pushed Draco against the cold glass door. His hands grasped the fabric of Draco’s shirt and pinned him there while he showered the blonde boy with kisses that drew out the most adorable moans. Draco’s hands had slid beneath his shirt, exploring the skin of his back and torso. Then he began to tug at Harry’s trousers.
“Malfoy, Draco,” Harry said. Draco brought their lips together, effectively shutting him up, even as his hands nimbly undid the buttons and zipper. In moments his trousers and pants were in a pile around his feet. The cold air against his skin provided a sobering moment for Harry which did not last long. Draco fell to his knees and took Harry into his mouth and it was better than Felix Felicis a million times over. Clearly this was not Draco’s first blowjob, even if it was Harry’s. Draco’s hands grasped his butt, pulling them close together, his head bobbing as he sucked Harry’s cock. Harry had mistakenly thought that sex would be a bit better than wanking himself off. When Draco looked up at him, Harry felt himself cumming and tried to pull away, but Draco held him there and sucked the cum from him. He swallowed and then licked Harry’s cock like it was an ice cream cone.
If the floor weren’t cold, hard stone, Harry would have collapsed onto the ground. Draco grabbed his pants and trousers and pulled them back up. Harry pulled him into a kiss, startled by the salty taste of his own cum, he pulled back. “I don’t want to be your friend, Draco.”
Draco’s breathing was heavy, and Harry realized that his probably was too. “Truth.”
Harry searched Draco’s face and saw his own uncertainty mirrored back at him. “Do you want to, er, do more of that?” Draco raised his eyebrows. “I mean. My boyfriend.” Harry shook his head. Words weren’t working. “Kissing and sex and pissing off the wizarding world.”
Malfoy tipped his head to the side and then burst out laughing. “You’re not very smooth, Potter.”
Harry couldn’t help but smile. “I never was good with girls.”
Malfoy pulled out the waist band of his trousers and looked down. “Yea, not a girl.”
“Right.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Malfoy, would you want to be my boyfriend even though its absurd and probably doomed and no one will like it?”
“No wonder Weasley broke up with you. You need lessons in romance like Snape needs shampoo.” Draco was tugging at the sleeves of his shirt and looking away as he spoke. He was nervous, Harry realized. It was cute. Draco Malfoy was flustered, and Harry was the reason.
“Malfoy,” Harry said pointedly. “Either drink or answer the question.”
“Ok fine, but only because it will piss everyone off.” Draco still wasn’t meeting Harry’s eyes.
“Draco,” Harry said, finding confidence in Malfoy’s lack of any. Their eyes met and Harry wondered how he had lived in the same dormitory as Malfoy for eight months and not ravished him until now. “I think I’ve liked you for a long time.”
“I’ve done really bad things, Harry,” Draco whispered. He eyes darted across the tower to where Dumbledore had stood in his last moments of life.
“I know,” Harry said. He brought his hand to Draco’s face and ran his thumb across his soft pink lips. “I don’t care.” Draco tried to look away, but Harry wouldn’t let him. “We all did stupid things because the adults around us failed us. I got Sirius killed, my own godfather.”
Draco tried to pull away. “It’s not the same.”
“You had Lucius. I had Dumbledore, but they’re both gone now. I don’t know what that means. I knew I was meant to kill Voldemort since first year. I was raised to kill. Now I have, and there’s the rest of my life ahead of me and, well, this is the first thing that has felt good in so long. Why else did you come up here?”
“Because I’m drunk and you’re hot.” Harry grinned and Draco groaned and leaned into Harry’s chest hiding his face in the crook of his neck. “Now I’m cold.”
Harry wrapped his arms around the blonde. “Let’s get you back inside where it’s warm.”
“It’s a bloody castle. It’s never warm,” Draco complained.
“My bed is,” Harry said smiling at the sensation of Malfoy tensing in his arms, “where I can, er, return the favor.”
Malfoy detached himself from Harry in an instant and pulled him out of the tower and down the spiraling stairs. “Yes.”
Harry laughed and followed him. “Yes?”
Inside the stairs was dark and Harry’s eyes hadn’t adjusted yet when Draco grabbed him and pushed him against the wall for a kiss. It was strangely easy, Harry thought as he relaxed into the other boy’s lips, to transition from polite nods and the occasional quip to making out in stairwells. “Yes, Harry. I want to be your boyfriend.”
Draco released him and began to race down the stairs. Harry grinned and followed, pinning him against the wall for another kiss when he caught him. They all but fell down the stairs together between kisses, until at last they reached the landing with the door to the 8th year dormitory. Harry traced the iron shape which was mounted on the door and the lock clicked open.
“Wait,” Draco said, catching his hand on the latch. “We don’t have to tell anyone, if you don’t want to.”
“You know they already saw us make out?”
Draco shrugged and glanced away. “That was a game.”
Draco Malfoy was nervous. Harry grabbed his hand and pulled him into the dormitory. Malfoy slackened his grip, but Harry held tight. Laughter and the raging fire greeted them as they entered. No one looked up from where they were all draped over furniture, the floor, and each other.
Lavender and Parvati were painting Blaise’s toenails purple while his head resting in Pansy’s lap. Padma was regaling everyone with a story about the time she accidentally got her entire family high when she was ten, bored, and her latent magic acted up. Neville and Ernie were laughing and questioning her to pull out more details. Justin’s drunken giggles caused him to lean his head against Hermione’s shoulder while she held her stomach laughing. Ron was trying to look stoic while glancing at Pansy approximately every five seconds. Dean was kissing the underside of Seamus’ chin.
Harry led Draco over to where the alcohol was, realizing in that moment that they had left a half drunk bottle of Fire Whiskey at the top of the Astronomy Tower which he would have to fetch in the morning. Without letting go of Draco’s hand, he poured a glass of Gavant’s Hard Butterbeer.
After taking a swig he passed the cup to Draco who was watching him with slightly suspicious eyes but drank. Harry used his finger to wipe away a bit of foam that stuck to the corner of Draco’s mouth.
“Why not just get it with your tongue, Potter?” Malfoy muttered, so Harry leaned in and kissed him.
“Oi, get a room already!” Parkinson yelled. Pansy, Harry supposed he would have to get used to calling her. Everyone turned to look at them and Harry felt Draco pulling away, so he scooped up the blonde before he could think twice. “Well, if you insist!”
There was a slight pause and then Neville burst out laughing. Soon everyone was laughing except for Draco who was incredibly indignant. “This isn’t civilized!”
Harry marched directly to the door leading to the boy’s dormitory. Before he went through the door he turned around and declared, “Draco is my boyfriend now, and I don’t care what anyone thinks about it.”
“Ok, Order of Merlin First Class,” Blaise drawled. “Just don’t do anything on my bed.”
Harry laughed and let the door slam shut behind him. Harry brought Draco over to his bed and threw him down on the Gryffindor sheets. Draco rolled his eyes. “Well isn’t this the perfect picture of house unity.”
Harry climbed on top of Malfoy and felt his body shudder beneath him. “Draco Malfoy, I’m drunk and you’re drunk.”
“Mmm, very astute,” Draco said as he snuck his hands under Harrys shirt.
“And tomorrow we can talk about how I meant everything I’ve said to you tonight.” Draco pulled his sweater up and Harry let it com off over his head. “But right now, I’m going to ravish you.”
“Oh good,” Draco said, and he pulled Harry down in a hard kiss.