Author's Notes: Flames will be used to make S'mores. Thanks to Cynthia, LD, and Josie for their support
The Trap: Setting the Trap
by KrazieKat
Ever since I first saw him, I wanted him, lusted after him.... wanted him as mine. By "he," I mean the legendary "Boy Who Lived," the youngest Seeker in nearly a century, my classmate, Harry Potter. And I know my father would love to see his family's bloodline merged with ours.
Did I forget to introduce myself? So sorry. Draco Malfoy, of House Slytherin, seventh year student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I come from a long and historic line of witches and wizards, and nary a Muggle among them.
What? What's a Muggle? That's easy, simpleton. A human that doesn't have magic, of course.
Of COURSE magic's real, idiot. I wouldn't be talking to you about it if magic weren't real! Ugh, what are they teaching at your school?
Since you seem to have it sunk into you that's magic isn't real, let's get a few things straight. Hogwarts is a seven year school, where the students learn the basics of witchcraft and wizardry, hence it's name of "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry" if you didn't figure that out, pea brain. As for Harry Potter, he's the sole survivor of Voldemort, a.k.a. You-Know-Who, a.k.a. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Voldemort is a wizard that learned the darker arts, and tried to take over the wizarding world. My parents, the morons that they are, were supporters of Voldemort until he disappeared after killing off Harry's parents. Then they tried to claim that they had been bewitched. Not like anyone believed them... and if anyone did, they're idiots.
But let's get back to the reason I'm talking to you at all. Harry Potter, and my plan to make him mine. I know for a fact that he hasn't even been kissed, much less gone much further. That's why I-
Another question? If you don't stop interrupting me for your questions, I won't be able to finish this story. But, I'll answer this one. Why is that important? Because there's a very good reason why you won't find wizards or witches that sleep around. If they do, they lose their power, unless married. And many a wizard and witch has chosen death over living life as a Muggle.
And that's the whole of my plan. The graduation celebration has always included alcoholic drinks, but in moderation. My Slytherin housemates are willing to go along with my plan, but they don't know why I suggested it. They don't know my real goal; they think I just want to humiliate House Gryffindor. But if my plan works, by tomorrow morning, Harry Potter will be mine, forever.
Harry smiled as Ron told some joke, but his heart wasn't into it. Or rather, his heart and mind weren't. They were too occupied, both wondering where Draco Malfoy was, but for very different reasons. The former was screaming that Malfoy was up to something, while the later wanted to see his love again.
Yes, Harry Potter, the famous "Boy Who Lived", Hogwarts student of Gryffindor house, was in love with Draco Malfoy, Slytherin. He had admitted it to himself during the sixth year, but had kept quiet on his feelings, not sure how his housemates would react. Slytherin usually dated and married Slytherin. Look at Draco's parents. The Malfoys had both been in Slytherin when they had attended Hogwarts.
They're probably expecting me to start dating and marry Hermione. But she's like a sister to me. Harry sighed, then realizes that the classmate he had just been thinking about was speaking him. "I'm sorry, what, Herm?"
The Muggle-born witch sighed, then asked, "Didn't you hear anything I was saying, Harry? I said that House Slytherin seems to be staying in their tower tonight. I was wondering what they were planning."
"Don't borrow trouble-" Harry started, then cut off as the missing seventh years appeared en masse.
Harry's heart jumped at seeing the pale frame of Draco entered, dressed impeccably in black, followed by Crabbe and Goyle. He tried to not let his feeling show, but something must have, because Ron asked, "Are you okay, Harry? You got this strangest expression on your face, like you just swallowed a live toad.... you didn't swallow Neville's toad, did you?"
"No, Ron, I'm okay. I just got a sneaking suspicion Malfoy's up to something," Harry said.
"Harry, that's redundant," Hermione said. "Malfoy's ALWAYS up to something." Ron nodded in agreement.
Harry didn't say anything, but thought, But there's something more going on... and it has to do with me, I got a bad feeling about this.
Things are going perfectly. No one saw the wizard alcohol being slipped into the punch, or that no one from Slytherin is drinking the punch. I managed to impress that into Crabbe and Goyle's minds, even though I nearly feared I'd have to use a hammer. But they're vital to my plan, they'll make sure that Harry's friends don't interfere with my plans for tonight. So far, they remembered that the punch was... how do you Muggles put it, "spiked"? They remembered that the alcohol was poured into the punch, and have been drinking only from the bottles of butterbeer that all of my Slytherin housemates brought.
But it seems that no one else thought to bring their own drinks. My, my, how easy they're making this. Already, I can see Harry blinking at his friends while they're laughing at some stupid joke of Weasley's. The (literally) poor fool was probably too broke to get a recent joke book, that joke was old when Dumbledore was a first year student. I thought about going ahead and making my move towards Harry now, but caution took over, telling me to wait until my green-eyed love finished another cup of punch.
I watched several others totter unsteadily back to the punch bowl, and realized that Longbottom was watching Weasley longingly. Well, well, well, what do we have here? Another unrequited love? Maybe I should help him. A smirk settled into place as I stood up from the wall I was leaning against, then made my way over.
Longbottom had come a long way since seven years ago. Back then, he had been the nervous runt of the Griffindor family, the smallest of his classmates. He was still nervous, but with time, he grew until he was among the tallest of the seventh year Gryffindors, and he had discovered, or at least developed some steel in his backbone, and I'm not sure who was more shocked, Longbottom himself or his grandmother, who had been in charge of raising the young man. The old woman recently passed away this year, and Longbottom had been hit deeply by her death.
"Going to do anything?" I drawled.
The young man jumped and whirled to face me, and I reached out to steady Longbottom. "D-do anything?" he asked, blinking drunkenly. He must have had several cups of punch, because even with my help he was weaving.
"About Weasley," I replied, smirking. "I saw you staring at him, probably mentally undressing him." The flush that colored the boy's cheeks wasn't all alcohol induced, so my wild guess must have been on target. He mumbled something, and my smirk grew. "I'm sorry, what was that? I don't speak mutter."
The blush grew, until Longbottom's face was nearly as red as his crush's hair, but the Gryffindor spoke up. "It's none of your business."
I smirked at him. "Oh, but we have something in common, Longbottom." That jerked the young man into staring at me. "We both love someone that's totally oblivious to our affection. But I've got the balls to do something about it..... do you?" The challenge was audible in my tone as well as my question, and Longbottom's eyes blazed in answer to my question. Without saying a word, he turned and marched over to Weasley.
My smirk grew as Longbottom planted his lips on Weasley's, and snickered as the redhead pulled back in shock. The noise of the party covered what they said, but the look of surprise was priceless. Longbottom deflated, and started to turn away, but then Weasley reached out, and turned the taller young man to him, pulling him down for a deep kiss. I think I saw tongue action, but I'm not sure.
All that left was... I turned, and my smirk grew. Problem number two was already curled up in a corner, asleep. Hermione was clutching something to her, and I had a sneaking suspicion it was a Weasley photo, but not a wizard photograph of a MALE Weasley. I know that she had a photograph somewhere in her trunk, Crabbe saw her put it there one night. But if Hermione was asleep, dreaming of HER redheaded love, and Longbottom and Weasley were involved in finding each other's tonsils, I guess it was time to start my move, so I headed for The Boy Who Lived.
He didn't seem to notice my presence as a housemate of mine pressed another cup of punch into his hand, but when the girl turned away, we shared a smirk. But I was surprised when he spoke first. "I know you spiked the punch, Draco."
"Moi? Surely you must be mistaken, Potter. I was no where NEAR the punch bowl."
"I didn't mean you as in you alone, but you and the others from Slytherin. Otherwise, Neville and Ron wouldn't be trying to suck each others' faces down, like two dementors trying to suck the other's soul out." I snickered at the amusing image that brought up. but was started at the reaction my snickering got. "THAT'S NOT FUNNY!" Harry roared, lunging to his feet.
My eyes widened in shock and my breath caught in my throat. Even enraged, he was beautiful. But in the next minute, he was swaying dangerously, and I caught him before he starting a nosedive towards the floor. "You're drunk," I said needlessly.
He mumbled something about no excretement and that Muggle singer, Cher's, lock. Only reason I know about the American Muggle was because he was known to sing her songs in the shower. Apparently, he loves her music, especially one about turning back time.
"Come on," I said. "I'm getting you out of here before you pass out." Crabbe and Goyle, usually thick-witted and missing the obvious, caught on that I was making my move on Harry, and stood ready to help or hinder as needed. The green eyed beauty in my arms was too drunk to fuss as I lead him to the doorway of the Great Hall, then I began stirring him towards Slytherin tower, Crabbe and Goyle trailing behind. He didn't even notice when we stopped before the bare stone wall and I uttered the password. "Mandrake." As always, the wall opened up and let us in.
I helped Harry into the Slytherin common room, then down the stairs to my bedroom. He looked around blearily, and slurred, "Where are we?"
I smiled, really smiled, and answered, "My bedroom, where else?" I didn't add that Crabbe and Goyle shared the two beds, I didn't think it would be necessary, considering that they'll be stationed outside the door, tonight. Not even Peeves would be disturbing us. Of course, he was terrified of the Bloody Baron, but that's neither here or there.
"'S'cool," he slurred, looking around.
I smiled gently, my heart going wild at the thought of him approving of my room.... or even being in it. "I'm glad you think so. But you need to lay down." I eased Harry onto the bed, but was surprised to find myself pulled forward, until my lips met his, but I didn't hesitate in taking advantage of Harry's initiative.
Pressing him back into the bed, I let my tongue lick and stab at Harry's lips, until they parted to let me explore the depths of his mouth. I took my time, memorizing every single inch and centimeter of his mouth, loving it, and from the sounds he made, my love was enjoying it as well. I broke the kiss when we were both out of air and panting, and I licked at his lips teasingly.
I opened his student robe while nibbling on his neck, and got a pleasure filled moan in response. The moan shot through me, piercing through my heart, and straight for my cock. God, I wanted to hear, dreamed of hearing it, and now I was. It was like heaven. I kept nibbling on his delicious neck as I worked him out of his clothes.
But even as I was doing that, I noted somewhere in the back of my mind that he was like a drug. The more I got of Harry Potter, the more I wanted. And I wanted all of him. And I was going to get what I wanted. But first to make sure that he wanted me. I managed to remove his robe and shirt, plus open his pants, but before going any further, I asked him, "Do you want this?"
The answer I got rather surprised me. With an animalistic growl, the green eyed young man pulled me up for another kiss, this time HE was the aggressor, licking, stabbing, exploring. I broke the kiss with a chuckle, then purred, "I take that as a yes?" The needy moan that answered my question as I rubbed against him was all I wanted or needed. I finished removing Harry's clothes, then stood over him for a bit, watching him, wondering if my eyes were glowing. "You're beautiful," I breathed softly.
Before Harry could answer, I stripped off my clothes, then started to slid back up Harry, pausing the nip and nibble at his rather heated arousal. THAT caused such a delicious moan that I couldn't resist doing it again, adding a lick. His reaction was to buck his hips forward and to give a needy whimper. "Please, Draco...."
My eyes widened, it was the first time I heard my name coming from his lips, there was no WAY I could resist, so I granted his request, doing my utmost best to pleasure him. By his moans, groans, and pleading, he didn't mind that it was my first time doing so. And his pleasure was thrilling me, knowing that all of those sounds of pleasure were caused and called forth by MY efforts.
But thoughts like that fled out of my mind, when we finally joined, after much painstaking care to make sure my love was stretched out and thoroughly lubricated. All I could think about was how hot, how tight.... how all mine, untouched except by me. And when it was over, that's what I purred into his ear as we snuggled together, drifting off into sleep. "Mine....."
The professors of Hogwarts stared over the sleeping bunches of seventh year students, frowning. The Slytherin were conspicuous in their absences, and Snape, head of House Slytherin seemed particularly upset. "I thought you charmed an imp to make sure that no one would slip wizard alcohol into the punch this year," he snapped at Flitwick, the Charms teacher.
"I did," the short wizard replied. "Someone turned it to stone." He motioned to the short squat pile of granite beside the punchbowl, then pulled out his wand, complaining about messy work.
On the other side of the room, Professor McGonagall, head of House Gryffindor, was searching the room, frowning. "Something's wrong here, very wrong," she muttered. "There's someone missing."
Her eyes widen, and she nearly shouted, "POTTER!" The student around her groaned and stirred as the other professors stared at her. "Potter is missing," she said. "He's not here."
A thorough search of all of the gradually rousing students revealed no trace of Potter, but a clue was gained when Neville mentioned Draco. "He said something about loving someone who doesn't know it, and have the balls to do something about it." He blushed, glancing at Ron, but the teachers just stared at each other in horror.
"He wouldn't," McGonagall whispered, then took off for Slytherin tower. Snape was right on her heels, and gave the wall the appropriate password. Even if the Potions master hadn't known it, they would have gained entrance anyways, judging at the swiftness the doorway opened. Even the inanimate quailed before that look.
They ran straight up to Malfoy's room, going right past the sleeping Crabbe and Goyle, but it was already too late as Potter and Malfoy shouted out together in pleasure, then cuddled together.
"Oh, Malfoy, what have you done?"
To be continued