All right y'all. I have to admit, there is a little bit of OOC-ism on Harry's part. But! He did kill Voldemort and all that, so wouldn't you be happier too? We tried our best to stay true to Malfoy's character, though, because there are so many fics that make him completely different from the books. Yeah! He's all nice and fluffy and wonderful to Harry and caring and kind and all that nice stuff! He's not a dick at all! He just has to act like one because daddy said so! Ha! Except not. He's a dick because he wants to be.
Co-authored by Anakin-Dancing (Kira dearest!)
This will be pretty damn smutty. We warn you now. However, we want to establish some semblance of a plot before the smut begins. Not.
If you're going to report us, please just don't. Seriously. Alaina (Slytherins kick ASS) will slap your face.
If you're a youngling… well… you found this for a reason and nothing we say will make you turn back, so… just… shut your eyes or something
Not HBP compliant.
THIS IS NOT FLUFF!
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\ - Those represent hormone spikes and scene changes. Mostly scene changes, though.
Chapter 1- Oh Shit.
Harry jerked his Firebolt sharply to the left, bringing himself level with Malfoy. He could hear Seamus shouting over the roar of the wind in his ears. If he caught the Snitch now, Gryffindor would be tied with Ravenclaw in the running for the Cup. Christ, if this pale little beastie would just quit riding his ass, he would be able to get back in the running! Said beastie shoved the front of Harry's broomstick, sending him off course. "Fucking cheater! I'll set your bed on fire!" Harry yelled. "You whore!" Of course Malfoy couldn't hear him, but fuck it, you know?
Harry struggled to catch up to Malfoy, but he was too far behind. That cheating bitch was going to win! Well, technically pushing someone away wasn't cheating, but still. Harry trailed behind, bent low on his broomstick, praying with all his might that he'd be able to reach Malfoy before the game ended. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, a black ball of zooming death came out of the sun. The Pasty Ho Bitch didn't notice the Bludger. That is, until it pretty much obliterated his shoulder. Ha! Malfoy nearly fell of his broom, but managed to keep upright. However, this gave Harry enough time to streak past and snatch the Snitch out of the air.
He could hear Malfoy cursing behind him, but just barely. The stands were shuddering with the poundage of student's feet rushing down onto the field. The Slytherin team landed away from the crowds and trudged off to change - all except for Malfoy, who was being led off to the Hospital Wing to have his shoulder fixed. "Sucks to be you, Blondie!" He shouted.
Harry let the Snitch go and ran off to Ron, with whom he did a super-secret super-complicated twelve-step handshake which ended with them both freezing. Harry wouldn't move. Nope. Hell no. Ron always won these, but not this time! Not this time! Then Harry was bowled over by Seamus tackling him.
"You dog! You DOG! I knew you wouldn't let us down!"
'Yeah, because tackling people is normal, Seamus!' Harry thought to himself. "Thanks, Seamus. I-"
"HA! Weasley wins again! I am the master of all that is frozen! Bow down!" Ron lifted his arms to the sky, and Harry, as was the rules of the Super-Secret Super-Complicated Twelve-Step Handshake, bowed down and praised all that was Ron.
"You are the master of all that is still! I am nothing compared to you! All I can ever hope is to live in your shadow and lick your boots, watching as you rule over all that is frozen!" Harry stayed on the ground until Ron allowed him to rise.
Now... to the common room. To PARTY ON.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Later that night (much later), Harry swayed his way down to the kitchens to get some more lime slices and cherries and salt and ice and glasses and everything else that they might need for the party like chocolate sauce or something and the like. He wondered to himself if he would remember this in the morning. Actually he wondered that out loud, but he didn't know that, did he? No. No, he didn't.
"Potter."
Harry spun around. "Hey, homie. Wassup?" He slurred at Malfoy.
Malfoy either didn't even blink or he blinked at being called 'homie;' Harry couldn't tell. He had lost his glasses somewhere. What a nerd. "What are you doing down here? Why aren't you up celebrating with your blood traitor pals?"
"Dude! What the hell!?! Don't say that!" Harry held up his hands with what he thought was an indignant look on his face. It looked more like he was scared shitless, but once again, he didn't know that. "One question at a time, man! Christ! What did you want to know?"
Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "Why you're down in the dungeons instead of celebrating."
Harry looked at him. And looked. And looked. "I don't remember."
"Well go home."
Harry saw his opportunity and dropped to his knees, crying out, "I have no home! I am a tragic hero with no family! Pity meeeee!" His plea turned into a fake wail of despair as he sunk lower to the ground. Malfoy watched him like 'Wow... That makes total sense, of course,' until he stopped and stood up.
"AHA!" He yelled. Malfoy jumped at the sudden exclamation. "I came down for... what's it called... you know... on drinks... garnishings!"
"Garnishings." Harry nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world, forgetting that he only just remembered what 'garnishings' were. "Potter, I'm afraid that's not an adequate reason for being out of bed after hours. I'll have to give you a detention for this."
"What?!" Harry yelled, quite a bit too loudly. "But you're out late too! You get a detention too! You hooker! Streetwalker! Seed of the dev-ill!" He pointed his finger at Malfoy accusingly, but ruined the effect by stumbling to the side.
"Cease speaking, child!" Harry shut up. "I'm Head Boy. I can stay up however late I want, Potter. You know that."
Harry by then had stopped caring. "Did you just call me child? Because... You're not that much older than me. I mean, I know that I'm still a youngling, but you are too. You can't deny it. I see the younglingness resting upon your features."
Malfoy almost smiled. Harry could tell. But it didn't happen. It never happened. "We're both adults, Potter, though only one has the poise and finesse to truly be called such. Go home."
Harry resisted the urge to break down for another 'tragic hero' moment at the mention of home, instead adopting a nostalgic look. "I remember the good ol' days, though. Don't you, Malfoy?" No answer. "You know, when we were jailbait. Hot jailbait, too. Dag, yo. (yeah it's supposed to be 'dag' not 'dang') The jailbaitin's the best part of being a youngling."
"Yeah, Potter, like you ever got any. You're vanilla as hell."
"What?!? I'm about as vanilla as chocolate ice cream!"
Malfoy smirked and stepped closer. "Nice."
"'S true! You can't talk, you pasty creature of the caves! I got girlies on all four corners of my state!"
Malfoy took another step, his hands behind his back. "I'm sure, Potter."
Harry, of course, didn't even realize that his little Blondie was drawing near. "You better be sure! I have like 50 bastard children! Read the books, Malfoy, read the books!"
"I think if you had 50 bastard children I would have heard about it, Potter. You're vanilla."
"Nuh-uh! I'm fucking chocolate!"
"Vanilla is used in the making of all ice cream, Potter."
"Then I'm sorbet!" Harry held his hands out, palm up, offering the truth of his declaration to Malfoy.
The git grabbed them and pulled Harry up to him. "Prove it."
"What?" Harry was still perplexed by how he was suddenly all close up with Malfoy. At least now he didn't have to balance on his own.
"Prove that you're not vanilla." Malfoy had a smug smile on his face - the sort of 'you-fell-right-into-my-evil-plan!' smug smile.
Harry saw this and narrowed his eyes. "You totally-"
He was cut off by Malfoy kissing him harshly. 'What the fuck? Who does he think he is?' The smaller man-child didn't even think twice about the fact that he was responding. 'Oh damn, where'd he learn that tongue thing? I've got to try that sometime!' Harry noticed his Dream Team preparing for battle. 'Well, the Dream Team always knows best.' Harry took one arm from where it was around Malfoy's neck and snaked it down into the other boy's pants. He started stroking the blonde, and felt himself steered up against the cold stone wall. Malfoy's mouth moved from Harry's lips to his neck, and he bit down.
"Ow! You ho!" Harry squeezed Malfoy a little too hard at this, and the other boy hissed in pain.
Malfoy pulled away. "You're not going to get away with that. Get on your knees."
'That was quick.' Harry looked at him with wide eyes. "But I don't know how-"
"I don't care!" Harry wondered how Malfoy knew what he was going to say. "Learn! Get on your knees, Potter!"
Feeling his Dream Team get even more excited at Malfoy's commanding voice, Harry dropped to his knees and looked forward. 'Nice.' He thought to himself. Harry considered the sight for a while. Never in his life would he have believed this would happen, yet here he was. He licked lightly at the base for a while, and then traced his tongue up to the tip. Upon hearing Malfoy's impatient noise, he took the other's cock as far as he could into his mouth. Malfoy winced. "Fuck, Potter! No teeth!"
Harry tried to say 'sorry' around his mouthful, but all he came out with was "Fsaughway." Malfoy smacked him up the head.
"If I wanted to hear you talk, I would say so." Obediently, Harry kept at the job ahead of him. He dug the Dream Team out of his trousers and started to make them work. With his other hand, he stroked Malfoy's balls, running his thumb firmly up and down the space between the cock and balls.
The only sound Malfoy made was heavy breathing. Harry thought to himself (in fragments) that he'd always been the kind of guy who only said what needed to be said. No worries, though. Harry was vocal enough for the both of them.
Harry felt himself getting ready to come. He moaned at the tingles spreading their way slowly from his core. Malfoy hissed at the vibrations around his cock. Suddenly, the tingles shot out in every direction, setting his blood on fire and rolling his eyes back into his head. Harry practically screamed around Malfoy and felt a hand in his hair. He was being shoved fully around Malfoy's cock, and it was like thirty inches down his throat. He did his best not to gag, and tried swallowing instead. That was stupid. He'd only made it worse. Not only did he want to gag even more, but Malfoy yelled out and came down his throat and into his mouth. Harry choked and turned to the side to spit it out, but the fingers in his hair yanked his head back to stare into grey eyes. "Swallow it." Malfoy panted, one hand bracing him against the wall.
Harry obeyed. He was reminded of how when he was little he had thought babies came from eating baby pills. A cool, fresh sensation swept over his body as Malfoy muttered a cleaning spell.
He vaguely noticed the other boy putting himself away, as he was struggling to do the same to himself. Finally, he got the zipper up. He looked up into a blurred, spinning world to see Malfoy's face.
Malfoy looked him up and down (with a rather arrogant expression, Harry thought). "You taste like gin."
With that he left.
And then there was the gin. And the gin. And the gin. And he could smell it on himself now. And he could smell Malfoy on himself.
Harry stood, like a stallion on his haunches, and swooned.
Then, toppled over.
"I…I…I... need Ron."
He lifted up his head, the small classroom's stone floor seemed to stretch for miles, how would he ever find his way out? Once more, he was pressed against the floor, wondering how this came about.
"Ronnnnnn…." He yelled out, a beached pirate upon the sand.
And much to his surprise, there appeared the red head of rugged glory, "Ronn…."
Ron stopped short in the doorway, "Harry. Harry! How are you here? I was just coming by to see if I could-" He saw Harry's inability to walk, and his voice dropped to a more sympathetic and worried, "Harry."
"Ron. I had the
most fantastic fantastic bloody wonderful thing." Harry garbled
out.
Ron held onto him, hoisted him up, a bit tipsy himself, and
they had several false take-off's to the door.
Ron was telling
something very excitedly to Harry. Something about, Hermione's
hair, something about his brothers and a storm, Ron talked much to
fast for Harry.
Harry just wanted Malfoy, bed, and sleep.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Pain, splitting pain! Bloody crack in the head! Harry woke to a vicious headache. His body wasn't moving. He didn't know what the problem was.
"Wild time last night. This'll help, Harry." Some blasted brown haired twerp smacked him.
Groans came from a voice of his he'd quite forgotten, "Morning already?"
"And breakfast in five."
Ron lay in the bed near by and was a dead log of hangover.
Harry got up slowly, rubbed his hair about, grunted at the pain again, and went for the bathroom.
He shut the door as quietly as he possibly could; he turned the knob before it touched the door jam and everything. Silence was golden. Ah, sweet bliss. He started taking off yesterday's Quidditch robes when his eyes snapped up to the porcelain god. Apparently, his bladder was telling him that he hadn't pissed in about a year, so... it was about time.
"Shit!" He whispered and shuffled over to the toilet. He had to shuffle because his pants were down around his ankles.
If he had thought sweet bliss was silence, he was sorely mistaken! Harry was the most wonderfully happy person in the world at the moment. The hangover potion had nearly completed its magic; all that was left was a sore throat. He continued undressing with an empty bladder. But then, all was flipped upside down. The mirror. That Damn Fucking Mirror, as he would soon learn to call it.
"Well, young man, you certainly look like you had some fun last night!" Harry turned to the mirror and smiled tiredly.
"Do I really look that bad?" He asked.
"Oh, no, dear! You look fabulous! I was talking about your neck!" Then, of all things, the mirror giggled. 'Wow, I didn't know mirrors could laugh. Well I guess you learn something new every day.' Harry thought to himself. Then he realized what the mirror had said.
He lifted up his chin to get a better look, and there it was. A big ass hickey was resting on his neck like the mark of some sinister disease. Oh dear lord! Were those teeth marks? This thing looked more like a battle wound than a hickey! What the hell-
And it all came rushing back.
Swaying down the hall, being accosted by his Evil Blond Nemesis, the argument, making out with said Evil Blond Nemesis, then... then his little Dream Team Adventure. No wonder he had a sore throat.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOH MY GOD! OH DEAR LORD, WHAT DID I DO?!?"
At the sound of the scream Ron barged through the door, screaming as well. "HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRY STOP SCREAMING MY BRAIN IS ON FIRE!"
"Ron! Ron what have I done? I'm going to Hell, Ron! I'm going straight to Hell!"
Apparently Ron didn't care. "I don't care! Stop yelling! My head is about to explode!"
Harry lowered his voice to a conspirational whisper, looking around to make sure they were alone. Sure 'nuff, Seamus, Dean and Neville had gone down to brekkie. Thank you Lord.
"Ron," Harry whispered, "Ron, I'm going to hell. Do you realize what I did last night? Do you realize the gravity of this situation?"
Ron was holding his head and hobbling back to bed, apparently not listening to a word Harry was saying. His hangover potion must not have been as tip-top of quality as Harry's was. Too bad, so sad, sucks to be him.
"Ron, last night... Last night... Oh God I can't even say it!" Ron looked up at Harry like 'If you don't just get this over with I'll rip your uvula out.' At least, that's how Harry interpreted it. "Okay. Okay... Last night..." Harry took a deep breath. He could do this. "I gave Malfoy... a blowjob." He whispered as quietly as he could.
Ron looked at him more closely. "You gave him what?"
Harry mumbled.
"What? Harry, just tell me! Did you give him the map? What?"
Harry shook his head. "Worse."
"Well, what did you give him? Christ, Harry! Just tell me so we can get it back!"
Harry shook his head again. "No! No, we can't get it back! I gave him a blowjob!"
Ron stared at him like he had announced his engagement to Snape. "Oh good God. No, you're joking. I don't believe you." He cracked a smile. "How do you come up with this shit? You sick freak! Oh God that's disgusting!"
Harry looked at Ron pleadingly. "No, Ron I'm telling the truth! I really did! I was so drunk and apparently I walked into a classroom instead of going down to the kitchens and Malfoy was out on his Head Boy patrol thing and then it just happened!"
"You mean you just walked up to him and dropped to your knees?" The corner of Ron's mouth twitched upwards.
Harry looked scandalized. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "No! We started arguing, but he wasn't really being mean or anything- he was calling me vanilla- and then he kissed me, then I started jacking him off, then he-"
Ron cut him off. "Wow! That's enough! I really don't need to know any more. So.. was he drunk too? Because the Slytherins wouldn't really be celebrating..."
"No, he wasn't drunk! That's the thing! He was totally sober and he took advantage of me!"
There was silence as the two Gryffindors went over this information. One staring out the window, horrified, the other with his eyes on the floor. Ron looked up first. "I think you should put some clothes on." Harry glanced down.
"Yeah, you're probably right... Oh shit, breakfast! Hermione is going to go all freak nerd on us!"
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After hurried showers the boys raced down to breakfast, abysmally late. Hermione glared up at them from her paper. Harry could see her preparing for a speech, so he cut her off.
"Look, I know what you're going to say, Hermione. We need to eat breakfast so we can learn and being hung-over is no excuse for being late because we shouldn't be hung-over in the first place but wait. I have devastating news." Harry looked away from Hermione's worried face and turned to Ginny. "You should know too." Ginny had become kind of part of their group since she and Harry got together. Even after they broke up, the four still went out together and chillaxed with one another. Harry knew she wouldn't be all offended over the news. They had decided not to get back together after Harry killed Voldemort in the summer after sixth year. Which was a good idea, since by then Ginny had started going out with Neville. They were a surprisingly good couple, seeing all the times Ginny had turned him down. Maybe it was the Order of Merlin, First Class that changed her mind. Neville had been present at the final battle and was responsible for the capture of Lucius Malfoy, Nott and Avery. Sucks for them, right? Suddenly, Harry had one of those uncontrollable flashbacks that every hero needs to complete his character.
FLASHBACK Harry stood over the smoldering
remains of Lord Voldemort, silent. All fighting around him had
ceased as Death Eaters and Aurors alike turned to see the demise of
the darkest wizard ever to live. Harry turned and stared at
those surrounding him. "Fuck yeah, bitches! That's
what I THOUGHT! That's what happens to you when Harry doesn't
like you! You fucking EXPLODE! So don't piss Harry off,
'cause Harry'll blow you up!" Harry turned back to the
area where Voldemort had last stood. "That's what you get
for pissing Harry off and fucking with Harry's brain, you snakey
bastard! You smelly, ugly freak! Who's the bitch now?
Who's the most powerful wizard in the world? Harry FUCKING
Potter, that's who!" BACK TO THE
The Woman of the Flame, as Harry liked to call her, finally spoke. "Harry! What did you want to tell us?"
Ron looked at her sympathetically. "He's going to take a while getting it out."
"Well, can't you tell us then?"
The Man of the Flame shook his smoldering locks. "'Tis not my place, young sister."
Hermione, meanwhile, had been working on Harry. "Seriously, it can't be that bad. Did the Death Eaters do something? Did Hedwig die? Did Crookshanks die? Oh my god Crookshanks died! Oh my god my cat is dead!"
"Hermione! This has nothing to do with Crookshanks or Headwig or the Death Eaters- oh god, Ron! What if he's working with the last Death Eaters and he's trying to kill me?"
Ron considered this for a moment then looked back at Harry. "Seriously, if he wanted to kill you I don't think he'd've had you... you know..."
Hermione was done with this. "Harry James Potter tell me right now what happened or so help me God I will shove this wand so far up your ass you'll be shitting slugs for a month!"
Needless to say, Harry was terrified. But that had also gotten the attention of several people nearby, who were now listening intently to the conversation. Harry looked around frantically at all the Gryffindors watching them and then his eyes were drawn to another table. There was Malfoy, watching him with the smuggest fucking smile on his face. Harry practically jumped out of his skin and gestured for his little group to follow him out of the Great Hall. But Hermione caught his glance and turned to see that smug creature for herself. She leaned into Harry.
"Did Malfoy do something to you?" She whispered as they left the hall.
"Oh my god you insane genius how do you know these things! Yes he did something to me! Look!" Harry pulled down his scarf (which looked rather odd there, seeing as it was May) and showed them the hickey.
Hermione was speechless, for once. Ron and Harry looked between the two girls, watching their reactions.
"That's hot." Ginny said.
"I know. I know. I know." Harry hyperventilated, his neck being on display in a freak-show museum.
Hermione was less than amazed, "Ew. Harry! You freak!" Her fists pounced upon him, beating his chest, until Ron pulled her off, grinning like mad at her little fit.
She breathed in; this was a big thing for her scholastic mind to handle. She would place the blame on someone else, "I am going to pour salt on that pasty dry worm of a snake until all his white hair falls out in the shower!!"
Ginny was still
staring in awe at the beast-bite on Harry, wide-eyed. Not to say she
wasn't a little jealous- it wasn't like she got much wild-fury
action with flower-boy Neville.
"Harry. Tell me it all. Did
anything else happen?"
Harry gulped, noticing how sore he was yet again, and remembering how good Malfoy felt.
He took a large bite of a buttered roll, and tried to focus around Hermione's VERY LOUD fretting, "Well, I think the guys in GQ are quite beautiful."
Ginny stifled a giggle.
"I mean, really beautiful." Harry continued quietly.
"So you're gay." Ron leaned in suddenly, wide eyed.
"I think so." Harry felt nervous then so overjoyed at the thought that he was openly gay to his friends he imagined himself going into a gay pride parade and having sex with 14 men in honor of it! Suppress you're emotions, Harry, Suppress your emotions, he thought to himself.
"With M-a-l-f-o-y," Hermione asked, trying to hide her horror.
Ron answered, "No, that was just a mistake last night. The Bastard."
"Um... yeah, about that. Ron, you already know, but... alright. Ginny, something else actually did happen. I... umm... Ron, could you tell them?" Harry looked up at Ron, only to see a mean little smile on the Flaming Wonder's lips.
"No, Harry - I think it's character building stuff, to tell your friends things like this. Took you long enough to tell me, and you need to get used to it, you know?"
Harry looked pleadingly at Ron, trying to figure a way out of this unfortunate predicament. "But... well, yeah, it did take me a long time to tell you, but you weren't making it any easier! I don't do well under pressure! And why would I have to get used to it?"
Hermione apparently was a traitor to all that was just and right, so she joined Ron. "Harry, of course you do well under pressure, you exploded Voldemort, remember? And you'll have to get used to it because now that you're gay" Harry rolled his eyes. Now that I'm gay. Because I just decided to switch this morning.' "You'll be doing a lot of this. Hopefully."
Harry nobly chose to ignore that last little word, instead preparing himself for some spillin'. "Okay. Okay... Well, I... um..." He looked around just to make sure they were alone in the hall. He lowered his voice so much that they had to lean in and hear him. Ron did it, too, even though he knew what Harry was going to say. "Igavehimablowjob." He forced out. Ginny leaned back.
"Oh my god Harry, you get hotter every day! Fuck! I wish Neville would do something like that!"
Harry looked at her confusedly. "You wish Neville would suck someone off?"
Ginny nodded. She was just about to go on about how hot it would be to know her boyfriend liked guys too, and maybe she could get a threesome going, when they were oh so rudely interrupted.
Seamus galloped up to them. Just picture that. Lovely. "Neville sucked someone off? Who?" He whispered conspirationally.
Ginny looked rather uncomfortable, not to mention disappointed. "No... Nothing like that happened, it just sort of came up in conversation."
Seamus obviously didn't believe them. "I obviously don't believe you. I'm going to be watching you all for any slip-ups or something, I know your ways." He fixed the Wonder Team with as deadly a stare as he could muster. Which, contrary to popular belief, was actually pretty deadly. He made sure they all got sizeable doses of the stare before bidding them good day. "I bid you good day." With that he left.
Harry turned away from Seamus's retreating back to face the rest of the chillin's. He opened his mouth to comment on just how strangely awkward that had been when they were oh so rudely interrupted yet again!
"Hell, y'all crackas had bettah watch out fo' dat madness fucker. He's gonnna kill y'all if ya don' watch yo' backs. Otay buh-weet! Sorry, I forgot to mention that Neville Longbottom was the ultimate gangsta. Because he was, and that may very well be important to this tale.
Ginny smiled. "Hey, Neville, love. Let's go make some babies."
Neville tipped back his pimp hat and smacked her booty with his pimp cane. "Damn right, beeotch! Get dat fine little ass o' yours back ta bed. I'll slap ya around uh bit then ya can make me uh sandwich. Jus' like Orenthawl James. Okay, darling?" And off they went.
Now robbed of their prize honey they needed to look good, the three 7th years were at a loss. It had been so long since they were alone! Since they had literally nothing better to do, they went to class.
As he trotted off to Charms, Harry realized something horrid. Oh good Lord. They had this class with the Slytherins! What would he do when he saw Malfoy? He and Ron nipped into the classroom just as the bell rang. They took their seats in the furthest back corner they could, as was their tradition. Harry surreptitiously glanced around. There he was! Oh hell no. You know who he was sitting next to? Do you know who he was sitting next to?!? Harry cleared his throat for the voice he was going to use in saying the name. He wasn't actually going to say it out loud, but the throat clearing needed to be done. But I digress. Pansy Parkinson.
Pansy Parkinson.
Harry snorted in derision. Then he straightened up and blushed as Ron looked over at him questioningly. "Sorry." He said, as a way of explanation. He turned his attention back to Parkinson. She was so ugly! She was so gross! What did he see in her?!? Suddenly, Harry was struck by a tremendous thought. He scribbled down a note and folded it into a paper acorn woodpecker (WAY cooler than a paper crane,) set an untraceable charm on it just in case and told it to fly over to her.
Ron leaned in and whispered to him, "What did it say?"
Harry smiled as Parkinson gave an enraged squeal and whipped around. "You're not one to talk about looks, Potter! You ugly freak! Go to hell!"
Flitwick scurried over. "What's all this ruckus?" He squeaked.
Parkinson looked livid. "He sent me this note! I've never been more insulted in my life!"
Flitwick held out his hand. "Let me see the note."
Parkinson clutched it tighter into her pudgy hands. "No! It's... It's fine... Look, never mind. I can talk to him after class." She leaned over to Malfoy and whispered something. Harry knew what it was. She was too much of a weakling to confront him herself so she had to ask her boyfriend to do it for her. What a pussy. Harry narrowed his eyes.
But, being the cunning and clever lad he was, Harry chose this moment to speak up. "Professor, I honestly don't know what she's going on about, but I will be perfectly happy to talk to her after class and get this all sorted out." He smiled smugly to Parkinson.
Flitwick looked satisfied. "I'm glad to see you two can talk out your problems, but I'll know if you start to make a commotion." He waddled away on his stubby little legs.
Parkinson huffed and turned to Malfoy, seeking reassurance on her looks. Malfoy, funnily enough, seemed a bit reluctant to give it.
Ron looked so excited now, Harry thought he might pee his pants. "Seriously, mate! What did you tell her?"
Harry's smile only widened as he dropped his voice. "Keep it down, remember? I told her that she's a fat wench and looks like she was dropped on her face when she was a baby." Ron roared in laughter and nearly fell off his chair. Harry just looked at him for a minute before saying, "Well, damn, man. It wasn't that funny, was it?"
Ron looked up at Harry with tears in his eyes. He sighed and wiped them away. "Yes. Honestly it was." He collapsed into another little fit of chuckles. Harry would have called them giggles if they weren't so utterly and completely manly.
The bespectacled nerd turned back to his work only to find it covered by a folded piece of parchment. 'A crane, how unoriginal.' He unfolded it, ignoring it's flailings of pain as he dissected its body. The paper settled again once Harry had flattened it out again, and he could read the neat, small handwriting.
Nice, Potter. Touché. I have to agree with you, unfortunately.
There was no signature, but really, who could have sent it but Malfoy? Nobody else in the class knew what the note said or called him Potter. Except Parkinson, but… Come on. Harry showed the note to Ron, who looked just as surprised as Harry was.
Harry looked up to Malfoy, but the blonde's back was turned. He didn't know what to think. Did Malfoy think their relationship had changed after last night? He had obviously been sober, so he would remember it even better than Harry. Did they say anything? Did Harry say he wanted a relationship? Because he didn't.
Class ended and Harry checked his schedule. He had two free periods before Transfiguration, then lunch, and - damn it! Potions after lunch.
He and Ron packed up their shit and left. They were on their way back to the tower when Harry was hailed by a fellow pedestrian. That Blonde Beastie. Damn.
"Potter, I would like to talk to you about that little incident back in Charms." Malfoy said with a frighteningly mischievous smile on his pale features.
Harry turned to Ron, only to find an identical smile on the redhead's face. "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone." With that he walked away.
"You... you traitor!!! You Slytherin! Ron! No! No- ah fuck." Harry turned to Malfoy and gave him a look to say 'what the hell was that?' Malfoy smirked.
"Have fun!" Ron yelled over his shoulder.