Let It Go
Draco Malfoy opened the door to the bedroom, and pushed it inwards, very slowly. Before he stepped into the room he shared with Crabbe and Goyle, he checked to make sure no one was there. He was safe, he was perfectly alone. Draco entered the room and walked over to his bed, the first one on the right side, and lay down, spreading his entire body out across the length of the mattress.
How had this begun? Every night, after supper, Draco would stop Harry in the halls and the two would spend time together. Talking, walking, snogging. No one knew, but him and Harry. Crabbe and Goyle had their suspisions of what was going on, but they really didn't know the details. But it had all ended today. Draco had walked away for once and for all. He had gone as far as he could with Harry. He had won. He had won the bet he had made with Crabbe and Goyle.
'Hey Draco, wanna make us a bet?' Crabbe asked.
'No, you lug heads. Why would I make a bet with you?' Draco responded half-heartedly, in a sarcastic drawl.
'Because you're scared,' Goyle countered.
'I am most certainly not afraid of anything your brains can come with to throw at me. So, what do you want to bet?'
For a split second, both Crabbe and Goyle had stood there bewildered- had Draco actually submitted, and was allowing them to propose a bet? It seemed so. Goyle was the first to snap out of the head shock, and place the bet on the table.
'I bet you, Draco Malfoy, that you can't fuck Harry Potter.' Goyle had a smug expression on his face, much like he had just received praise in potions class, from Professor Snape.
'I beg your pardon?' Had his two friends, and body guards alike, just bet him he couldn't get Harry Potter to sleep with him?
'You heard him, we don't think you can get Harry to let you fuck him. You can get any other girl in this school, but not Harry.' Crabbe wore a smug expression that matched, if not exceeded, the one on Goyle's face.
Draco smirked, 'in case you two haven't noticed, Harry Potter is not a girl. And, unless he is a fag, which I would highly doubt, I don't think he'd consent to gay pleasures.'
Crabbe and Goyle exchanged looks. 'Exactly,' Goyle announced.
'So, let me get this perfectly clear- you two want to bet me that I can't fuck the renowned celebrity, Harry Potter?' Both his friends nodded their heads in affirmation, 'Alright, then we will make a bet. I bet you that I can fuck Harry Potter. And I will, given one week. If by the end of the week, I have shagged the daylights out of Harry's brain, you will owe me fifty galleons. Each.'
'And if you don't?' Crabbe asked.
'I will pay you two 50 Galleons each. I it a deal?'
'Deal,' Both Goyle and Crabbe said at the same time. And they took turns shaking hands.
The day Malfoy had made the bet,he had come up with a plan. Never did any of the three friends mention Draco had to have sex with Harry, only to fuck him. And fuck him, Draco had. The poor pathetic boy was now questioning his sexual orientation, as it were. Draco had made advances on him progressively throughout the week, that were subtle but implied enough that it had made Harry uncomfortable. Until tonight, when Harry had pulled Draco aside after super, and kissed him.
Usually Draco was the one to interrupt Harry's schedule, to take the boy outside and walk around the lake while chatting. However, Harry's advance on Draco had come as quite a pleasant surprise to him. It meant that he had won the bet.
Never, had Draco actually planned to make love to another boy. It was not that he was adverse to the idea, no- he was actually very open-minded about gay males- but Draco was simply not about to share this kind of passion with his enemy. No, not with Harry Potter.
Draco simply had done enough with Harry, like pushing back the hair off his face, stroking his cheek, or pretending to confide in the boy, so that Harry trusted Malfoy. It was sad, really, how gullible the kid was. Yesterday, before he had kissed Draco, he had told him that he thought they could be friends.
'Friends?' Draco asked.
'Well, yeah. Umm, you know, not enemies anymore?'
'Oh. Is that all?' Draco had inquired, making his voice sound a little put off.
'No. I mean, not if you don't want it to be...' Harry trailed off, not knowing how to tell the other how he felt.
'I think, Harry, you need to learn some things about yourself before we take it any further than friendship.'
'What do you mean?' Harry's cheeks had flushed. He knew exactly what Draco meant.
Draco saw the flush on his opponent's cheeks, and advanced. He put his hand on Harry's cheek and smiled, hoping he looked sincere. 'You need to come out, Harry. You don't need to tell everyone, or even your closest friends. You just need to tell me.'
'T-tell you what, exactly?'
'That you recognize you're gay, Harry. And that you aren't afraid of yourself. That you're not ashamed. And it has to be the truth.' Then Draco had kissed Harry quickly on the cheek, and walked away. Once he had gone back inside, he rushed down to the dungeons, and slid into the boy's lavatory where he puked into the nearest toilet.
Just five minutes ago, Harry had confessed. After Harry kissed him, he had done exactly what Draco had told him to. And the thing that scared Draco most was the seriousness in Harry's eyes. Like he was in a life-altering stage, and Draco was his saviour. And when Draco saw that look, he had gotten scared. He had mumbled something, that he hoped sounded to Harry, like 'I can't, we can't do this. My father, Lord Voldemort. I'm sorry.' And Draco, loosing his nerve entirely, had rushed back to his room where he lay now, on his bed.
Draco was in such a deep state of reflection that he jumped into a sitting position when Goyle entered the room.
'Well?' Goyle asked, when he saw Draco sitting there.
'I didn't fuck him.' Draco rolled over to the right of his bed, and reached into the drawer of his side table. He picked up his money bag and held it out, along with its contents. 'Fifty Galleons.'
'You did fuck him, didn't you?'
Draco turned to his friend. 'How did you know?' For Draco had, indeed, had accomplished what he set out to do.
'You wouldn't pay me if you hadn't. You would go for the rest of your life to get the arse in your bed. And you would never pay me.'
Draco considered what Goyle said. Perhaps he was right. Although he wouldn't try to fuck the boy, he wouldn't stop until he knew he had messed up the Golden Boy's mind significantly.
'So you owe me fifty galleons,' Draco stated in a calculating tone.
'I suppose I do. You fucked him?'
'I fucked him, but you won't pay me.'
'Huh? Why not?' Draco had significantly confused Goyle, he didn't understand a bet where nobody won.
'Because I didn't fuck him.'
'But you-'
'Yes, I know. I did,' and with that, Draco exited the room. When he drew back the door, Crabbe jumped out from behind it, trying to avoid a collision between wood and his nose. Draco smirked at him, and proceeded up the stair to the common room.
Crabbe clambered into the room, rubbing his nose. Although it had not been hit, it was a close call.
'So he fucked him?'
Goyle grunted. 'You were eavesdropping?'
'No, I was just listening in. I live here too. Well?'
Goyle shook his head at him friend's logic. 'He fucked him. But he didn't fuck him.'
'He- but he didn't?' Crabbe asked the question lamely.
'That's right,' Goyle confirmed.
'I'm confused.'
'So am I. Just let it go.'