AU, non-magical. Hogwarts is an exclusive boarding school for the rich and the gifted. The rich usually get trained to belong. The gifted have to find their own place in the school hierarchy. And now the class of1998 is here for their ten-year reunion.
Draco Malfoy thought about doing some heavy pre-drinking before this shitshow started. But as always, he didn't have time for it. Heading an international corporation is too much freaking work to allow him a minute to relax. He nursed a glass of whiskey in his hand all the way here, sitting in the back of his car, the partition up, but he got to distracted by the New York exchange, which was six hours behind London and still open. By the time he arrived at the grounds, he was still sober. He sighed and closed his laptop, then downed the drink in one long sip and got off the car before he changed his mind.
And of course, the first person he recognizes is the biggest idiot around. Well not really the biggest idiot, he just hated the guy. Well, no, he doesn't hate him. He did when they were eleven, wonderful Potter, the best soccer player of this generation. Now he begrudgingly admits Potter is all that, after all, he just won the World Cup for England almost single-handedly. Back in the day, Potter was a sports scholar, so his mental abilities were questionable. To be fair though, they were questionable for the incredibly high standards of Hogwarts. He would probably be the smartest person anywhere else. But in a place where people like Draco Malfoy or Hermione "big swot" Granger were the norm, everyone else seems stupid.
Strangely enough, though, Potter is standing in a corner, almost trying to disappear against the wall. Draco has nowhere else to be, so he grabs two glasses of scotch from a tray and walks towards the man in the corner.
"Potter," he says, offering the tumbler of golden liquid.
"Malfoy," answers Harry, surprised but apparently happy to get some liquid relaxer.
"Holding the wall, are you? I know this place is old but I'm sure it still stands."
Harry chuckled and took a long sip from the glass.
"Neh. Just not in the mood for this. The Headmistress was a bit too enthusiastic about me coming, and I got a small flood of fan mail that made me want to run the other way."
"Must be a hard life, having a bunch of rich and beautiful young women wanting to fuck you for all time's sake."
"Not my thing. I got a postcard signed by Romilda Vane, Lavender Brown and another girl I don't even remember offering me a foursome.
Malfoy snorted "and your problem is?"
"Come on Malfoy, you know better than that. They probably have an offer from a tabloid to sell pictures or a video of it if they can manage to film it. That rat Rita Skeeter from the Daily Voice is set on ruining my career. I guess she didn't like it too much when I passed on a blow job from her a couple of years ago."
Draco cackled a loud laughter
"She does like them young, I'll tell you that. She tried to interview me at my office and the first thing she did when she arrived was take off her coat and have a 'wardrobe malfunction' that let her tits out. I buzzed in my assistant to help her and show her the fucking door."
Harry snorted out the whiskey he was drinking
"Don't tell me it was Creevey that walked her out."
"Oh yeah, he was. Dennis Creevey, fiercest and angriest gay man in Britain. I pay him a shit ton of money to be my assistant, he has the salary of a vice president just because he can keep that shit out of the way and my schedule in perfect order. Worth every penny."
They both laughed a bit more.
"Wow, Malfoy, I don't remember you being this funny."
"I wasn't. I was surly and angry and quite jealous of you."
"You know, my friends always insisted you were jealous, and I kinda wanted to believe that, but I couldn't wrap my head around why. You were rich as heck, handsome and a freaking genius. Every girl in school wanted to lose their V card to you. What could you want that I had?"
Draco sighed
"Don't play coy, Potter. Nothing compares to being a star athlete. The women want you and the men want to be you. I could not compete with that."
Harry looked down at his now empty glass.
"Wow. Thanks, Malfoy. That is quite the compliment. And coming from you is probably the best I have ever had."
"You just won the World Cup, you twat! Stop playing humble here."
"Oh do shut up. I read somewhere that you are the biggest kingmaker the world has seen in decades. And when I saw that I felt like it was sixth year all over again."
A waiter walked by and they grabbed another round of drinks.
"You know," said Harry, "if we could be back in sixth year, I would probably try to steal your girlfriend. Parkinson was insanely hot."
Draco howled a laugh
"Pansy was not my girlfriend by then. We only dated a bit during fourth and the beginning of fifth year. After that, she was just an incredibly loyal friend. And way more of a prude than anyone gives her credit for. And what are you complaining about? Didn't you do Chang, Weasley's sister, and Granger?"
Harry laughed
"Not really. Cho was a bit older so I was too freaked out to go beyond some very lame kissing. Ginny was my girlfriend seventh year and for a bit when we started University but when Manchester recruited me she couldn't handle me traveling all the time. And Hermione was just my best friend. So, Malfoy, who popped your cherry then, if you don't mind me asking"
Draco sighed
"Astoria Greengrass. It was a mutual pop, to use your metaphor. She was way too young though. At the moment it made me feel like a big man but then she was devastated when I said I was not gonna marry her right when I graduated. She got in her head she would drop out of school and raise a bunch of babies in my parents' estate in Wiltshire, insisting that we were rich and didn't need to work. She eventually got over it though. And we are friends. She is married to Dean Thomas."
"Oh yeah, I've seen them. He played for an Italian team for a while but now he just got hired as coach for Chelsea. He's doing great. He was always better strategist than a player."
At that moment an unexpected sight caught their attention. Both their best friends were walking towards them. Together. Looking like they just walked out of the pages of Vogue. Which was quite possible, since Pansy Parkinson was the creative director of one of the most prestigious design houses in Europe and Hermione Granger was the youngest female member ever elected to the House of Commons. The strange thing was why were they arriving together. The two of them used to be almost as full of animosity as Draco and Harry had been.
"Good evening, gentlemen", said Pansy, walking to her friend first, kissing both his cheeks and then turning towards Harry, who had just kissed his friend. "Congratulations, Potter. That was quite the tournament you played."
"Thank you. Please, call me Harry."
"I will then," she answered, giving him a seductive smile.
"You two look gorgeous," added Draco. "I didn't know you were close."
"We weren't," said Hermione, "until a month ago. I needed a dress for this event and remembered seeing Pansy's designs, so I gave her a call. The measurements session turned into happy hour, then dinner, then...I don't remember much," she chuckled.
"Madam Deputy Speaker were you inebriated in public?" said Draco, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Of course not. It was in private. Very, very private." The two women cracked out laughing. The men felt suddenly very hot.
"Ahem, how private," choked Harry. He was never good at subtlety.
"Private enough," answered Pansy. "Why, Potter, would you like a closer look?"
Harry blushed but tried to compose himself. He was the best soccer player in the world, women in every continent beat the bean to his image. Oh who was he kidding, he would return the World Cup trophy for a trip "down under" with Parkinson.
"Indeed," he answered, acting braver than he felt.
Pansy gave him a smirk and a feral look.
"How about you show me where it all started for you, Potter? The soccer field? The locker rooms?"
He swallowed hard
"I thought you were gonna call me Harry."
She got close to talk in his ear
"Maybe I'll moan it instead."
Harry grabbed her hand and turned to the others
"Alright, see you around."
Hermione and Draco laughed while their friends left, then cleared their throats and looked at each other, flustered.
"Well, Madam Deputy Speaker, it's you and me. I'm sorry to say I don't have a tour of the locker rooms prepared for you, but if there is any other place you want me to show you, please, be my guest."
"My, my, my, Draco Malfoy, are you really offering your stallion services?" she quipped.
He went red but kept his face straight.
"Just trying to serve my country, M'am. As you are indeed my representative."
"Are you telling me that you voted for me, Malfoy?"
"I did. Best ballot I ever cast."
She walked to him and ran her fingers over his tie
"In that case, why don't you show me where it all started for us both, you know, the library? Did you have a preferred space there, Draco?" she whispered his name in his ear. He was immediately hard.
"Well yes, I did. The restricted section, where Madam Pince kept all the erotica. And do you know why I liked so much?" he spoke to the crook of her neck.
"Do tell," she said, letting her head fall back to expose herself to his mouth.
"Because I saw you there a few times, sixth and seventh years, sitting side-saddle on the floor, reading what you shouldn't have been."
"Refresh my memory then. Take me there."