AN I don't own HP or any of the characters! TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of torture, death, and non-hetero pairings. Idk what this is or where it came from, honestly, but I hope you like it! I plan for eventual HPDM and probably some Romione or some Hermione/Luna in later updates (assuming I actually end up updating, that is). Enjoy!
Update: Updated to be free of errors, second chapter coming soon!
From the outside looking in, it seemed like a normal teenage party. There were red solo cups, there was dancing, there were people grinding on one another in semi-hidden alcoves that definitely should have been one hundred percent hidden. It was a party, no doubt about that. However, the far more interesting event was happening—not in the eighth year common room, but in the shared bedroom of Hermione, Luna, and Pansy. Currently, they sat in a circle. Hermione had dragged Harry and Ron into the game, Luna had brought Neville, and Pansy had coerced both Draco and Blaise into playing. None of them actually knew what the game was, though.
"Vera, Vera, Verita!" Groans came from the purebloods, and Draco tried to leave but Pansy shut him down with a glare. Harry tried to shoot Hermione a terrified look, but she was oblivious. And slightly drunk.
"It's like truth or dare, Harry," she mumbled, slurring the 's' a little bit. "Except it's just truths, and if someone thinks you're lying they can call verita, which is like BS, and you gotta take a drop of Veritaserum to prove you're telling the truth. Got it? Good." Harry did not have it—not at all—but everyone else seemed to understand and he didn't want to be the dumb muggle-raised wizard so he went along with it. Pansy volunteered to start.
"Something tame, something tame… Don't want to scare the kiddies off yet. Hermione! Have you ever cheated on a test?" The muggleborn's face flushed beet red almost instantly. Now that they shared a dorm, the three girls had gotten infinitely closer and Harry had no doubt that Hermione had shared that in confidence, but that only made it so much better.
"'Mione! After all those times you chewed me and Ron out for the exact same thing?!" She brushed him off, though, with a wave of her hand. Pansy refilled her cup.
"Yes, I have but it was only once! And it was in Divination, which isn't really even a class so it doesn't technically count. Besides, you and Ron were cheating practically every day. It's different. Anyways, Ron: vera, vera, verita?" Ron—poor, lightweight Ron—blinked at Hermione like she'd spoken to him in tongues.
"Um… I don't think that's something I'm supposed to pick?" Hermione flushed again and giggled, her voice slightly too high, but Pansy kept the alcohol coming with no end in sight. Harry supposed that he didn't mind. It was strange to see Hermione like this, but not bad necessarily.
"Oh, my bad. Who would you kiss if you had to kiss someone here?" Ron stumbled, but Harry managed to elbow him before the word vomit came. Thank Merlin… There would be no stopping that trainwreck once it started and Harry was not in the mood to do damage control.
"Prob'ly you…" Hermione grinned and Pansy nudged her, but the game continued before either could make much of it. Maybe Pansy was trying to set the two up? Little did she know how long Harry had been trying…
"Harry," Ron's face seemed more like a save me expression than an inquisitive one, but Harry focused nevertheless. "Did you have a crush on Cedric in fourth year?"
"Didn't we all?" Harry whirled, shocked to see… Malfoy? Sure enough, it was Draco who had spoken and he snorted as he took another drink, but Blaise was already laughing and Pansy looked far too happy.
"Yes, Draco, all of us straight people had very heterosexual crushes on Cedric Diggory—but you wouldn't know anything about that, now would you?" Draco rolled his eyes and sipped, but it was clear that Pansy had hit home. Whatever home was for that kind of topic. Was Malfoy gay? That seemed to be the implication but Harry couldn't be sure and Pansy was more than a little drunk so he decided not to take her word for it. It was worth investigating, though.
"Yeah, I did. I'm pretty sure you're the only one who didn't, Ron." The redhead huffed, but Harry barely noticed. It was his turn now—finally—and he knew exactly who to pick but he couldn't be blatant about it. Another question… One that wasn't as obvious as oi, Malfoy, are you gay?
"Malfoy," Silver eyes immediately locked on him, like the sight of a sniper rifle. "How old were you when you first drank alcohol?" No laughter at this one, but Harry hadn't wanted there to be. This was his compromise. It was still personal—incredibly personal for someone like Draco—but it wasn't too close to what he actually wanted to know. Either way, he learned something.
"I was eight." Harry stopped.
"I mean when you first drank drank alcohol. Like to get drunk, not just a sip from your parent's glass." Draco raised one eyebrow at him, but now the attention was on him. Why was it on him!? Was it really that strange for him to clarify the question, especially if it wasn't that strange for Draco to answer like that?
"Eight, Potter. The answer is still eight." Harry couldn't help feeling like he'd just been slapped. The game went on and he vaguely heard Draco asking Blaise something about a chandelier being broken but his mind couldn't comprehend it. Draco had drank alcohol—truly drank—when he was eight years old. Something about that just felt… wrong. He found himself wanting to know everything he possibly could—who had given him the alcohol, what kind of alcohol, how much and how often and with who—but he also ached to forget it. The mental image of a little blond boy doing shots was not something he wanted to remember.
"Potter, you paying attention?" All eyes were on him, again, but he couldn't remember why. Blaise was looking at him funny, but it was Neville who was speaking and repeating his question.
"What did it feel like?" Instantly, Harry knew what Neville was referring to and he cursed the man for bringing it up. Internally, he swore. But, externally, he was being watched so he stiffened his shoulders and took a breath.
"What did what feel like, Neville?" He was going to make him say it. If Harry had to sit here and describe it, then Neville could at least name it in the question.
"Death." The room was suddenly silent. Only a very select few had been told about what had happened during Harry's apparent fall to the Dark Lord, and he doubted that any of the Slytherins even knew he had died. Draco certainly looked surprised, at least, and Pansy was doing another shot which was her version of coping. Deep breaths, in and out.
"Hot. It was really hot, like fire under your skin. And suffocating, even though there was no oxygen and no need to breathe. I don't recommend it." Silence hit his ears, but he was already moving on. Something—anything—to distract the group before the Slytherins thought too hard on what he'd just said.
"Pansy, what's the Cruciatus curse feel like?" It was a low blow and it wasn't something he was proud of, but he needed the attention off of him. Better Pansy than Hermione, at least. The witch frowned, though, and her eyes darted to the ground in a temporary moment of soberness that almost seemed out of character.
"I'm not the one you should be asking about that, Potter." Both she and Blaise looked at Draco, who had stiffened considerably on the floor. He chugged the rest of his cup when Harry made eye contact.
"Get it over with." Harry swallowed hard, but he already felt like this had been a mistake. Draco looked ready to kill and he was not in the mood for a duel, even if it had been a while. He was sick of violence, honestly, and he was sick of fighting Malfoy in particular.
"What's it feel like?" For the first time in history, Draco's face didn't change. His voice was low and level—detached, almost—and his eyes stayed focused on the floor at the center of the circle as he spoke. It was almost like a trance, in a weird way.
"It's like every single nerve in your body is being electrocuted. Like you're suffocating and drowning and burning to death all at once—but the worst part isn't the curse itself. It's the moments right after it's lifted. When everything is so, so cold that you think your body might have died without telling you. It's wishing, vaguely, for the curse back just to know that you're alive. When your limbs are stiff and frozen, even in the middle of summer, and you can't stop shaking long enough to sit up, let alone run. It's feeling that cold linger in your bloodstream years later. Wondering if part of you really did die with the curse, or if you're just used to it now." More silence. Somehow this game had gone from crushes to curses and Harry wasn't completely sure how they'd made that jump but he was starting to regret it. That little blond boy in his mind took another shot.
"Pans, who's better in bed: Blaise or Theo?" She groaned, and immediately the game was less serious again but Harry couldn't help dwelling on the past. He'd never seen Draco be so open before. Some part of him felt like he was watching a play—like this Draco couldn't possibly be real—but a much larger part of him felt… relieved? It didn't make any sense, but that was the best word for it. Why the hell was he relieved, though?
"Sorry Blaise, but you know I like to be in control and Theo was always just so pliable so… Theo. But, just for that, Drake! Who's better in bed: me or Blaise?" Draco was laughing, now, and Harry felt like he was on a rollercoaster he had not signed up for. That sound made his chest light, like he wasn't breathing, but god it was beautiful and he never wanted it to stop but—
"Wait a minute, you've all three slept with each other?" It was Ron, sounding incredulous, but the Slytherins were laughing together. It was enough to cover the sound of Draco's laughter, at least, and let Harry focus on what was being said. He needed another drink.
"Yeah, plus Theo. Slytherins don't really do relationships that often but we definitely know how to fuck." Both Blaise and Pansy were practically crying at the looks on the others' faces—particularly Neville—but Draco had managed to compose himself again. His calm, compared to the others, was almost worse. Why did looking at the blond suddenly feel like he was staring at an anchor or some kind of beacon? As if he could reach out and be saved?
"To answer the question, Pans," Draco shot a glare at the Slytherin girl, but it was joking. "You know better than anyone that I'm partial to guys so I have to say Blaise. Should have asked someone completely straight." Pansy pouted.
"But I've never slept with someone who was completely straight!" Another round of laughter and drinks, but Harry felt like the world was spinning out from under him. Draco preferred guys? Draco was gay, and since when? Since always? Was there… no, he was being stupid and there was no chance of anything happening because they were barely civil now, let alone friends. Still, that hope refused to die completely in his chest.
"Luna, you've been surprisingly quiet so far. Let's stick with a classic and say who's your crush?" The circle oo-ed and ah-ed but Luna didn't even blush. Maybe she was more confident with all of this than Harry had originally thought?"
"I don't have a crush," Pansy immediately started to boo, but she wasn't finished. "I have a girlfriend." Jaws actually dropped. Neville spit out his drink, poor guy, and Hermione looked completely scandalized that she hadn't known before everyone else, but Luna was completely calm.
"Who!?" She smiled, though, that sweet little smile.
"I believe that's two questions, Pansy. Now, who to ask… We haven't had to bring out the Veritaserum yet so let's try for something someone would never want to admit. Draco, you've been picked on enough recently let's go for… Ron. Have you ever used an Unforgivable Curse?" Beside him, Ron stayed calm but took another drink before answering.
"No, of course not."
"Verita." It was Draco who called the wizarding version of bullshit, and for a second the tension between the two was palpable. But, then Pansy was drawing a tiny vial out of her bag and gesturing for Ron to open his mouth.
"The dropper is shrunken so it gives an eighth of a dose, which should only last about two and half minutes. If you think you can outlast that, think again Ronald Weasley." Ron took the dose.
"Have you ever used an Unforgivable Curse, Ron?" It looked like Ron wasn't going to answer, but then his mouth opened and everything came pouring out like word vomit.
"Yes I used the killing curse during the final battle and I've used the cruciatus curse before but never imperius because that spider freaked me out in Moody's class and—"
"That's enough, Ron." His mouth shut with a snap, but Luna seemed pleased and so the game progressed. Pouting, Ron was allowed to ask his question through the Veritaserum.
"You three, show us your left forearms." Blaise frowned while Draco took another drink, but Pansy was shaking her head.
"Nuh-uh that's not how it works. You have to pick one." Ron scowled at her, obviously still a bit sore over the whole Veritaserum issue, but rules were rules. He pouted.
"Fine. You then, your highness." In one smooth motion, Pansy pulled up her left sleeve to reveal… nothing? Harry blinked, but sure enough there was just milky white skin and bluish veins—not a drop of ink, and certainly not a tattoo. What the hell? Everyone seemed to be on the same page with that, but Pansy didn't let the group get off track and immediately turned it onto Luna again.
"Luna, who's your girlfriend?" The Ravenclaw smiled. Her smile was so genuine and pure that Harry's chest ached just looking at it because it was very clear that she was in love with whoever this girl was. He was happy for her, honestly, but just as curious as the others.
"Ginny." Gasps rang out and Ron let slip a few choice words—evidently not aware of his sister's preferences—but the serum was wearing off so he was able to keep it under control. Thank god, Harry couldn't help thinking. Yet again, they'd somehow avoided a duel.
"Blaise, show your left forearm." Luna was apparently on the bandwagon, now, and the whole group seemed eager to see their Dark Marks, even if Pansy didn't have one. Blaise had been the one to tense when it was brought up, so Harry braced himself. Hopefully no anxiety attack. Blaise lifted his sleeve, though, and Harry leaned closer only… It was blank. There was nothing except skin.
"Wha—" Blaise jumped in before any questions could be asked.
"Pansy, who was your first kiss?" Clearly, the Slytherins were eager to keep the questions in their little group and Pansy caught on quick, drawing out her answer. The alcohol loosened her tongue, though, so she eventually let it slip.
"A Hufflepuff boy named Jameson who was in the year above us. Draco," So the pattern continued, all three of them teaming up to avoid what they knew was coming. "What's your favorite time of day?" Clearly, a horrible question. They were just stalling now and Blaise and Pansy both seemed completely set on dragging this out but Draco merely sighed. He seemed almost resigned, in a weird sort of way.
"Predawn, and you know that Pans. Hermione, why didn't you ever rat me out when you found me in the Restricted Section?" Was he trying to play up their relationship? Fall back on Hermione's love of books in the hopes that she wouldn't continue their pattern of questioning? Hermione actually hesitated for a moment, but Ron managed to nudge her.
"Because knowledge shouldn't be restricted," She sighed, almost wincing. "I'm sorry, but… Draco, show us your left forearm." The blond grit his teeth and down the rest of his drink but nodded, as if it was only fair. Half of Harry was hoping to see skin and be pleasantly surprised like he'd been before, but the other half could guess why Pansy and Blaise had teamed up to help him. There was no way that Draco had avoided the Mark—it wasn't possible. Still, he found himself sitting on the edge of his proverbial seat as Draco reached for his sleeve and yanked.
It was there.
The others all sucked in a breath when they saw it—black like tar, burned into his porcelain skin—but Harry was too focused. He'd seen the Dark Mark before and he'd seen it up close. That wasn't what interested him, though. Instead, his eyes drifted and settled on the raised little lines that ran through the Mark horizontally, almost as if… No. There was no way. He looked up to steely grey eyes, hoping for some kind of reassurance or denial, but Draco's face was empty. So it was true.
There, behind the Mark—though Harry was sure they'd been done after it had been given—were at least fifty thin, raised little scars. He might have thought they were from the sectumsempra incident but he knew better. Remus had had those marks before he'd died. One of the girls in his primary school had had marks like that up and down her arms and she'd called them beauty marks, but they weren't. They were self-harm scars.
"I'm sorry." Harry wasn't sure why, but his found himself mouthing the words at the blond across the circle. Even with everyone crowded in and staring, even with Blaise and Pansy trying to run interference, it managed to feel like they were alone. Like Draco was sitting across from him, completely vulnerable, and Harry was trying so hard not to fuck it up. The blond just shook his head, as if Harry was wrong to apologize.
"Not your fault." Before he could be sure what he'd lip-read, Draco was pulling his sleeve back down and the group was trying to tell him who to pick next. As usual, he ignored their pressuring.
"Harry," If anyone else noticed the suddenly shift to first names, they didn't mention it. "Tell us something you've never told anyone before." Harry wasn't sure why, but an answer immediately popped into his mind. He was going to search for something small, a detail that he'd managed to overlook in all their years of friendship, something he could use like a loophole of sorts, but Draco's face stopped him. The blond just looked so fucking vulnerable. Like he'd just been stripped bare in front of all of them, and was asking Harry to do the same. Dammit.
"Um, when I was six I got the flu and I accidently threw up on the carpet. My uncle broke a vase over my head. When I was finally okay enough to move around, he made me pick up all the pieces and glue them back together, but I got hundreds of little tiny cuts from the shards." Hermione and Ron looked livid, both having heard stories if not met the Dursleys, while the rest just looked horrified but Draco… Draco looked pleased. Not that he'd suffered, and not in a sadistic way, but more in the sense that Harry had put himself on the line too. Like they'd just taken a step towards friendship, or something.
"Harry, that's horrible." He didn't have the right mindset right now, though, for Hermione's coddling so he shrugged her off.
"It is what it is. Neville, what are the nightmares about? The ones where you wake up screaming?" The attention stayed on him for a beat or two of silence, but Harry was determined to shift the conversation. Slowly, they turned on Neville.
"Nagini and my parents, usually." That was answer enough and then the game was going again, taking a much lighter turn finally towards safer topics. Harry tried to listen—he really did—but the alcohol was starting to really hit him and Draco's eyes were on his skin, examining and studying in that way that the Slytherin always had. It felt good, honestly. For the first time since Harry had met him, Draco's scrutiny didn't feel invasive or dangerous. It didn't feel like he was looking for faults or weaknesses; instead, it felt more like he was just observing, looking for any sign that Harry wasn't okay or that something was wrong. Now, it felt oddly… caring.
"I think I'm done for tonight, guys." It was Hermione who was calling it, which wasn't really a surprise, but, given that they were in her room, that meant the party was over. For now, at least. As they all stood—some more steady than others—Harry couldn't help sneaking a glance at Draco. He seemed to be the most steady out of the three Slytherins, and again Harry's mind helpfully conjured up that image of an eight-year-old taking shots of firewhiskey. Now wasn't the time.
"Night girls." It was a chorus, once Harry said it, but Hermione was already collapsed on her bed and Luna seemed to be heading in that direction. Pansy was the one who cheerfully waved them off.
"See you tomorrow night for round two!"
Thanks so much for reading! Please, please, please review especially since this is kind of a new... idk what to call it but I'm trying it out! Also let me know what pairings you want to see later? (Drarry is non-negotiable, sorry)
