Author's Note/ Disclaimer
Oh how I enjoy this piece. Some Draco/Harry smuttish, R-rated fic for you. Enjoy.
I own none of the characters mentioned below and reviews would be lovely! Thanks!
"Games Afoot"
"Potter. Potter, get up!" Draco shoved him harder, ripping the robe out from underneath of him. Harry rolled over sleepily.
"What? What are you doing, is it late?"
"You've cum all over my robe."
Harry stared at him.
Draco flung the said robe around urgently. "Look! There! See it?" he pointed.
Harry squinted in the dungeons dim lights and looked at it. Two seconds later he was howling with laughter.
They had found a small room last night, near the Potion's room and what they thought was a convenient distance from Professor Snape's quarters. They had been too preoccupied to take in a lot of details. What they had found now appeared to be Snape's closet.
Draco punched him in the arm, hard. "What is so bloody funny about this Potter?"
Harry gasped for air, unfazed by the punch. "It's…it's Snape's! This is Snape's bleeding closet!"
He sat up and grabbed the robe, folding the collar back and revealing a name embroidered in silver on the inside. S. Snape.
Draco nearly choked. Snape was going to kill them. No, Snape was going to castrate them and then let them live as unglorified, humiliated, wannabe males.
Harry was still laughing as he pulled on his clothes. Draco watched him button his jeans, the silver embroidery of the defiled robe winking at him in the dark.
"C'mon. We're hanging it back up. We're going to be late to class as it is." Harry declared, his lips twitching into a grin. He motioned to their left, to several other similar robes all hanging neatly.
"I guess we didn't notice those last night then." Draco said, running his hand through his hair.
They were quiet for a moment, then: "But then again, I am an amazing lay. I'm surprised you still even know who you are Potter."
Harry scoffed and jerked the robe away. "Hey, not just anyone can say they fucked the Boy Who Lived. Or I guess I should say, 'Got fucked by…'"
Draco was on his feet in an instant. He grabbed a handful of Harry's shirt and shoved him against the wall, catching the Gryffindor off guard.
"Do you really want to play this game again Potter?" Draco seethed, shoving his knee between the other boy's legs.
Harry pushed back, his eyes laughing. "There are some who say I'm better at this game than quidditch, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco leaned in, twisting the shirt in his hand tighter, "Well Potter, maybe I'll let you win this time…"
They never did make it class. And S. Snape could never reason out where his second favorite robe, in "Midnight Black", as the company described it, had disappeared to.