Hello, everyone! This short story is based on the prompt from dizpotter on tumblr: "Hogwarts 8th year Spin the Bottle/Strip Poker/Truth or Dare feat. Drarry."
Warning: Contains swearing and m/m sex.
Any mistakes are mine and I apologise for them! I cannot lay claim to any part of the Harry Potter world, or any of the characters that reside within it.
Draco took a deep breath, trying to stifle his anger.
Stupid bloody Gryffindors, he thought, turning the page of his Advanced Potion-Making textbook. He had spent the past three hours studying for his N.E.W.T.S because, unlike the rest of his year, he actually wanted to pass.
It was just two months until their final exams, and after the disastrous reputation being on Voldemort's side during the war had given him, he was determined to prove to the world that he didn't deserve to go to Azkaban.
The months following the war had been difficult for the Malfoy family. Lucius had been unceremoniously shoved in a cell in Azkaban, along with every other known Death Eater that hadn't fled the country quickly enough. Those that had fled were hunted viciously, until all but a few were locked up. Each was, of course, given what was considered to be a fair trial in front of the Wizengamot, but little could be said to clear their names. Many tried to claim, like in the first battle, that they were imperiused, but under the strict conduct of the Ministry under Kingsley Shacklebolt, that excuse rarely held up.
After all he had done, Draco was incredibly lucky to have been allowed to finish his schooling. The main reason he had been given a chance was, surprisingly, due to his arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. Potter had, much to Draco's immense annoyance, been the one person to step up and defend his honour, mentioning in detail their run-in at Malfoy Manor when Draco hadn't admitted to recognising him.
In all honesty, Draco couldn't remember why exactly he hadn't ratted out Potter. After his trial, he had spent many hours with that one moment playing on repeat in his head and had eventually decided that it was just fear, and it was much easier to move on after that.
His eighth year at Hogwarts had so far been, for lack of a better word, interesting. The younger students were completely terrified of him, and as a result never came within fifty feet of him if they could help it. Most of the older ones left him alone, as well, especially those in Slytherin house. Each and every one of them was already considered to be evil simply for being in Slytherin, and associating with Draco would be bound to make their reputation even worse. As a result, all of the friends he had had during his first six years of schooling had completely abandoned him.
Pansy Parkinson, his girlfriend of several years, had not spoken a word to him all year, seeming to prefer to spend her time with less guilty parties such as Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. It had been difficult to adjust to, at first. Somewhere in the back of his mind he had hoped that this year would be a happy one, to erase all of the other horrific years. Seeing Pansy pretend he didn't exist that first day had made him realise that his hopes were for nought.
The Gryffindors had, predictably, spent their time in Draco's presence sneering in his direction and making cruel jokes. Once, a group of cocky sixth-years were as brazen to ask to see his Dark Mark, before scoffing and strutting away. Hatred from the Gryffindors had not really been a surprise, but it had been a great deal more difficult to deal with without the support of his old friends. Draco no longer had the confidence or the pride to follow their vicious remarks with a witty comeback.
The year was, thank Merlin, almost over and Draco had learnt to accept, and even appreciate, the seclusion being ignored gave him. While he would admit he was quite lonely, he had had a great deal of time to study for his exams without all of the distractions.
It seemed that tonight, however, it would be impossible to get any work done, as the Gryffindors had started an impromptu party in the Eighth Year Common Room.
A few minutes prior, Seamus Finnigan had stormed into the Common Room, shouting, "I got Firewhiskey, ev'ryone!" That had been followed by a loud applause from almost everyone in the room, save for Granger, who had merely scoffed and resignedly closed her textbook, seeming to accept that she wouldn't be getting any more studying done tonight. Glasses had immediately been passed around and filled with the potent liquid, most of which had been sculled within seconds.
The group was now seated in a circle on the carpet, getting ready to play some sort of game. Ron Weasley and Dean Thomas were chanting obnoxiously, obviously eager for the game to start.
Draco closed his Potions textbook with a loud sigh, thinking it might be good for him to get an early night, anyway. He began packing his things and placing them neatly into his bag, before standing and walking towards his room.
"Oi, Malfoy-"
Stopping abruptly, Draco turned to the sound of the voice. There Potter stood, merely feet away, with a half-full glass of Firewhiskey and a dopey grin on his face.
"Aren't you gonna play?" Potter yelled, much louder than was really necessary. All heads in the room turned to see Draco stumbling on a reply, trying to think of an excuse as quickly as possible. It didn't help that he hadn't been directly spoken to outside of class for several weeks; it felt like he had forgotten how to speak.
"I- Err-"
With a drunken-sounding chuckle, Potter grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the other eighth years, pushing him unceremoniously onto the floor in-between Pansy (who was quite obviously avoiding looking him in the eye) and Anthony Goldstein.
Before he knew what was happening, his bag had been shoved under a table somewhere, he had been handed an over-flowing glass of alcohol, and the game had begun.
Two minutes into the game, Draco was completely and utterly confused. Thomas had placed an empty bottle in the middle of the circle and preceded to spin it around, everyone chanting as it spun. When it finally stopped, some let out a surprised gasp and, much to Draco's astonishment, Thomas and Finnigan began to snog quite passionately right in front of him.
Unable to make sense of what was happening, Draco took a healthy gulp of Firewhiskey, thinking maybe you needed to be half-pissed to understand the game. His throat burned as he swallowed, instantly feeling light-headed. Having temporarily distracted himself from the game, Draco looked back up to see Padma Patil heavily making out with an eager-looking Michael Corner.
"What in the name of Merlin is this game?" Draco said without thinking, turning to Goldstein.
If Goldstein was surprised to hear Draco talk, he didn't show it, answering casually, "Spin-the-bottle. It's a Muggle game. One person spins the bottle, and they have to snog whoever it points to."
Nodding, Draco turned back to the circle, watching with rapt attention as Theodore Nott spun the bottle. Pansy looked disappointed as it just passed her, landing on Blaise Zabini. Blaise merely smirked, not looking phased in the slightest as he leaned over and stuck his tongue right down Nott's throat.
As more and more pairs began to kiss upon the spinning of the bottle, Draco couldn't tear his eyes away. So far, Draco had witnessed short make-out sessions between Granger and the Weasel, Terry Boot and Susan Bones and Parvati Patil and Pansy. Maybe it was because this game was so new to him, or maybe it was because he was nearing his fourth glass in less than fifteen minutes, but Draco felt as if he had never been so entertained in all of his life.
Draco took another swig of his drink as Potter grasped the bottle and spun it with what seemed to be all the force he could muster. Show off, Draco thought as the bottle seemed to spin endlessly, before coming to a stop, pointing right at Draco.
Wait, what? Pointing right at me? Does that mean that Potter's going to…
Potter turned to face him, a feral smile gracing his face as he crawled slowly forward, looking like a jungle cat eyeing its prey. Draco felt as if his heart was about to beat out of his chest, watching Potter coming towards him with wide eyes and his mind whirling.
Potter's going to fucking kiss me. Oh Merlin what am I-
And then all of a sudden, Potters lips were touching his own, and any thoughts Draco had been having came to an abrupt halt. Unable to stop himself from whimpering quietly, Draco joined in to the kiss, opening his mouth and allowing Potter's tongue to tangle with his. Electric sparks seemed to travel from their connected mouths to every pore in his body. He felt alive, his heart beating wildly and sporadically, his head spinning from the sensation.
In the back of his mind, he vaguely registered someone wolf-whistling, but he happily ignored it, reaching his hand up to clutch his fingers into Potter's unruly hair.
And as quickly as it had come, Potter's mouth disappeared. When Draco dazedly opened his eyes, Potter was sitting back on his side of the circle, a proud grin gracing his features.
Shaking his head, Draco dragged himself back into line with the circle, trying to clear his mind. But all he could think of was the feel of Potter's lips, the taste of his tongue. If he concentrated, he could taste treacle tart from that night's dinner, and he certainly had not eaten any. As he crossed his legs, he realised he was half hard in his slacks, and pulled his shirt down to hide himself.
The game moved on as Draco's thoughts replayed that kiss over and over, feeling every sensation as if he had never stopped kissing Potter.
I just kissed Potter. Fucking hell I just kissed Harry fucking Potter.
Draco's head was reeling.
But I'm not a ponce. I shouldn't have enjoyed kissing him, Harry fucking Potter or not. I don't like blokes. Do I?
Dimly he registered that the bottle had landed pointing towards him, and he rid his thoughts of Potter, turning to kiss an embarrassed Pansy.
Pansy had never been the best kisser. Draco already knew that from their previous rendez-vous, so he wasn't the least surprised when he felt barely any sensation upon kissing her, other than a slightly unpleasant taste in his mouth. When it was over, he refilled his glass and sculled the entire thing in one gulp, relishing in the burn.
By now he had lost count of how many glasses he had drunk, and his vision was really beginning to swim. He wasn't sure whether everyone was rocking back and forth, or if that was him, but either way he was finding it extremely entertaining. Laughing merrily to himself, he stood up, announcing to the room that the music needed to be louder.
Draco stumbled as he found the radio, turning the volume knob as far as it would go. This seemed to distract the others, who all appeared to forget about the game completely and jumped up. Within seconds everyone was dancing, some grinding on the person nearest them and others swirling freely to the beat of the music. Draco himself was swaying his hips from side to side as he gradually made his way through another glass of Firewhiskey, watching people dance. The Weasel was grinding quite disgustingly up on Granger, who didn't seem to mind. Pansy had her lips locked onto Theo's as they rocked to the music. Draco was astonished to see a very pissed Finnigan pull Thomas down the hall in the direction of their dormitories. One person was strangely missing from the dancers, however, Draco noticed as he surveyed the faces of those in the room.
Where have you gotten off to, Potter? Draco thought to himself, before bursting into a fit of laughter. "Gotten- gotten off," he barked, seeming to find the utmost hilarity in his own little innuendo.
Out of the blue he felt warm hands grasping his hips from behind, pulling him into a dark corner in the back of the Common Room. Not knowing who had grabbed him, but not really caring, Draco ground his hips backward in time to the music, his heart jumping when he felt the unmistakeable shape of male anatomy pressing against his behind. With a start, he turned to find none other than Potter, his hands now cupping his arse, looking at him with glazed eyes.
"Potter," Draco exclaimed as he pulled away abruptly, shaking his head when he immediately felt light-headed.
Harry's only reply was to whisper, "Malfoy," before grabbing him by the waist and pulling him close again. Their lips touched for the second time that night, and any protests Draco may have had disappeared.
They kissed with reckless abandon, Draco pushing Potter up against the wall with brute force, shuddering as he felt their clothed hard-ons come into contact.
Potter pulled away to gasp for air, muttering, "I like the way you move your hips, Malfoy."
Draco shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts before stepping back, sneering. "What- what are you, Potter, a ponce?"
Potter just sneered right back, looking Draco right in the eye. "You seemed pretty into it too, from what I could tell," he said, gesturing with a grin towards Draco's obviously bulging crutch.
All Draco could do was stutter, dumbfounded as he was pulled back into another blazing kiss that held more force than any of the others. In the back of his mind, he knew he should try and resist, but he couldn't focus on anything other than the feeling of Potter's body pressed against his.
When Potter moved his mouth down to Draco's neck, he couldn't stop himself from moaning loudly, forgetting about the others in the room, dancing just around the corner.
He felt Potter chuckle against his neck, before he was assaulted with a sucking sensation, just above his collarbone. Draco whimpered, pressing his hips somehow closer to Potter's, wanting to feel more.
Blindly, he clutched his fingers at Potter's shirt, trying to undo the buttons as quickly as he could. When he finally undid the last button, he roughly pulled the shirt off Potter's shoulders, dropping it without a thought onto the floor.
Even in the dim lighting, he could see every ridge of Potter's toned chest, and he salivated at the sight. Apparently all those hours of Quidditch training have been good to you, Draco thought as he ran his hands over Potter's chest.
Potter abruptly pulled Draco's shirt over his head, attaching his lips to the right nipple and sucking with abandon. It took everything Draco had not to collapse at the sensation, feeling Potter run his fingers over his thin frame.
"You're not so bad yourself, Malfoy,"
Confused, Draco tried to retrace his thoughts. "Oh s-shit, did I say that out loud?"
Potter only chortled, trailing his hands down to Draco's hips and skilfully flicking the button to his pants undone.
Draco lurched as Potter thrust a hand down his pants, immediately closing over his cock and giving a hard tug. The only response Draco could give was to cry loudly, pushing his hips forward into Potter's hand, practically begging him for more.
Shocks of pleasure ran through his body with every stroke of his cock, and Draco felt as if he was going to die from the array of sensations Potter's hand was causing.
"Merlin, P-potter, fuck me," he yelled when Potter gave a particularly strong pull. He was immediately pushed so that his back was against the wall, Potter letting his pants fall so that they pooled around his feet.
"Do you know how this works, Malfoy?" Potter said, his voice raspy.
It took all of Draco's willpower to force himself to nod, shaking with anticipation as Potter pulled out his wand and muttered a quick spell. Seconds later he felt wet, cold fingers pressing against the crest of his hole, making him shiver.
And then a single finger pressed harder, pushing so slowly inside of him. It was uncomfortable, but with the aching need to be touched so prominent, it barely registered. Spreading his legs wider, he let himself sink onto Potter's index finger, until it could no longer go any further. Potter eased the finger back out again, before thrusting it in quickly, making Draco cry out.
"Fuck, Potter, more," he whimpered, so driven by arousal that he started to fuck himself on Potter's finger.
When another finger was inserted, the burn became more prominent, Potter scissoring the fingers inside of him. Draco moaned wildly, needing to feel more. Before he knew it, a third finger was entering him, and this time he relished in the burn that came from being stretched. Somehow it was causing him a great deal of pleasure, causing shivers to travel down his spine.
"I'm going to fuck you now, Malfoy," Potter gasped, slipping out his fingers and whispering another lubrication charm.
Draco felt Potter's cock touch lightly at his hole, and he had to stop himself from coming then and there. Potter watched Draco as he began to shudder in anticipation, running his fingers lightly over Draco's cock, taking great pleasure in the noises Draco was making.
"Merlin, Potter, get the fuck on with, will you?" Draco whined as he pushed himself slightly onto Potter's cock. Draco gasped as Potter thrust into him all at once, filling him completely. They both took deep breaths, trying to slow their heart rates. Potter looked Draco right in the eye as he slipped almost all the way out of him, before thrusting roughly once again.
Potter began to thrust in and out at a regular pace, driving Draco up the wall each time he filled him. "You are so," Potter breathed out as he entered Draco again, "fucking hot, Malfoy,"
Draco could only groan as Potter grabbed the back of his thighs and guided them so that his legs were locked around his waist. This time when Potter thrust, he hit something deep inside of Draco that made him cry out, seeing stars.
"Fuck, Potter. Fuck me harder," Draco yelled, wrapping his hands around Potter's neck and pulling him closer for a searing kiss. Their tongues melded together messily, Draco's dripping cock trapped between his and Potter's hard chests. It felt as if they were touching from head to toe, as close as two humans could possibly be, but it wasn't close enough. He wanted Potter everywhere, so close that they melded into one.
With every thrust, Potter's cock filled him completely, hitting that sweet spot inside of him.
When Potter wrapped a slick hand around his cock, Draco knew he wouldn't last much longer. There were too many sensations; he had never experienced such pleasure in all of his life.
"I-I'm close, Draco," Potter groaned out as his thrusts steadily gained speed, stroking his cock in time as he did so. Their bodies rubbed feverishly against each other, sweat-slicked skin gliding easily together.
With one last thrust, Potter gasped, "Draco, come for me," and Draco felt spasms attacking every part of his body.
His arse clenched tightly as he came, moaning Potter's name with all of the strength he had left. Potter soon followed, and Draco could feel come filling his hole. Ecstasy surrounded them, and in that moment nothing existed except Draco and Potter.
After a few minutes, Draco let his legs fall to the ground, unable to hold himself up any longer. He groaned as he felt Potter's cock slip out of him, sticky come dripping down his crack and making him shiver.
The pair stared at each other, still pinned quite close, as they tried to slow their laboured breathing. Potter smiled greedily as his eyes roamed over Draco's sated form, seeming to appreciate the view.
Completely aware of being leered at, Draco began to feel extremely self-conscious, removing his hands from Potter's hair to cover himself. He was suddenly aware of how vulnerable he was in that position, and pushed Potter away roughly to lift his pants back up. As quickly as he could, he picked his shirt off the ground and put it over his head, his heart racing and mind whirring.
What the fuck did you just do? he thought to himself, completely lost and terrified. You just got fucked quite remarkably in the arse by none other than Harry Potter, his mind supplied for him.
"Shut up!" he yelled to himself, trying to control the shaking that was now overcoming his body.
Draco looked up to see Potter gaping at him, seemingly quite shocked at Draco's reaction.
"Ma-" Potter started, reaching out to grab his wrist.
"Fuck off, Potter," Draco said as he stepped away, glaring at the still naked man in front of him.
"Malfoy, can't we please talk-"
"I said, fuck off, Potter! I'm not a fucking ponce!" Draco stormed off as quickly as he could, rounding the corner to the dormitories and slamming his door. His heart felt as if it was about to beat out of his chest.
What have you done?
Thank you for reading! I'm not sure whether I want to continue this fic or not... It's been so long since I've written anything; for all I know it's absolutely terrible! If you review I will love you forever 3
