Seven Minutes

By Calypso Snow

Disclaimer: Not mine. All characters and references to Hogwarts and magic property of JK Rowling.

Harry was decidedly uncomfortable at the prospect of playing 7 minutes in a closet with every 7th year in the school. It was bad enough that he might get stuck in a closet with a boy, but certainly Millicent Bulstrode would be worse.

Harry would have been perfectly fine with failing to inform the Slytherins of the 7th years interhouse "get together," but of course Hermione insisted that every house must be there. Sometimes Hermione really got on Harry's nerves.

And she was really getting on his nerves again because she was the one dragging him into the circle and telling him it was all fun and games. Just wait till she gets shoved in a closet full of Goyle and we'll see what has to say about it then, Harry thought darkly.

Pansy Parkinson was leading the game. She sat at the head of the circle with a bowl of papers, each with the name of one of the students in the circle. A conjured closet, which looked a lot a telephone booth without the windows, rose up behind her like an ominous pillar of doom. Well, that's how Harry saw it anyway.

"Hermione, what if I get stuck with Crabbe? What if I'm with Ron? Even worse – what if I'm with you?" Harry complained.

"Thanks Harry, I'm glad to hear that the thought of touching me repulses you." She didn't sound very appreciative.

"Cheer up mate," Ron reassured. "what if you get with Lisa Turpin? The Patil twins are certainly looking good tonight." Harry only wished he could be as optimistic as Ron in a dreadful time like this. He sulked some more.

"Harry, quit being such a baby. It's just kissing usually. And Ron be quiet we're starting." All three of them sat to attention and joined in the anticipation of the rest of the group. Lavender tapped her wand against the bowl and two names flew out of it. Smiling like a Slytherin, Lavender read the green smoky names hovering over the bowl: "Neville Longbottom and Lisa Turpin."

Ron mumbled something about Neville being a lucky bastard. Neville's ears turned pink as he stood up and giggled awkwardly. Lisa flashed her pearly white teeth at him and sauntered her bountiful bosom and chic bob into the closet. Harry breathed a sigh of relief – he was safe…for seven minutes at least.

Harry was finally warming to the game by the time Ron and Hermione were paired together. The number of names that hadn't appeared out of the bowl was dwindling, and Harry's was among them. Neville had gone in twice with Lisa and once with each Patil twin, Hannah Abbot was still recovering from her encounter with Goyle, Seamus had gone in with Justin Finch-Fletchley, Susan Bones and Dean Thomas were whispering amiably after their pairing, and Lavender had just emerged breathless and flushed from her time with Draco Malfoy.

When the bell chimed the end of Ron and Hermione's session, they stepped out grinning sheepishly. Lavender tapped the bowl and two more names materialized above it. She stared at them for longer than usual with a humorous glint in her eye. Then she read the names:

"Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy."

Harry gulped heavily. The closet suddenly seemed to grow fangs, and surely that rushing noise in his ears was some monster inside the closet just waiting to gobble him up. Across the circle, Malfoy was rising gracefully with a terrifying smirk on his face. Harry's eyes were like saucers, and his lips were thin with tension. He looked rather like a fish out of water. It wasn't a flattering expression. Whoever was sitting on his left nudged him in the shoulder and said "Go on Harry, it's your turn." Harry glanced around the circle. Ron and Hermione hadn't noticed that their best mate's name had been picked, and some of the girls were giggling. The gleeful expression Lavender wore as she glanced between the Slytherin and the Gryffindor conveyed a fulfillment of all her wildest fantasies – probably because the thought of the two hottest boys at Hogwarts snogging each other senseless had made her cream her panties more than once before.

Reluctantly, Harry stood and trudged slower than a dying snail in the direction of the closet, where Malfoy waited with his hand on the door and a slight frown on his lips. "Come on Potter, we haven't got all night." Harry's brain was only registering terror and disgust, so it came as a bit of a surprise when the closet door clicked behind him, locking him in a contorted hell with Draco Malfoy. Harry slammed his back against the wall – as far away from Malfoy as he could get within the confines of the closet. Malfoy, however, was ever so slowly creeping towards Harry, a predatory glint in his eyes. Draco's face was only an inch from Harry's when he finally registered what the other boy was doing, and with a violent shove pushed Draco to the other end of the closet.

"Potter, come on. The closet won't let us out until we've kissed, and I don't fancy spending my night in here with you. Let's just get it over with and we can spend the remaining 6 minutes glaring at each other."

"Malfoy, there is no way I'm going to kiss you. I'll break down this closet!" Harry replied defiantly. For some reason, he was growing increasingly nervous, and Malfoy's normal level of smarminess seemed awfully insufferable. The prat was acting like he actually wanted to kiss Harry! Clearly, something evil was going on in his Slytherin mind.

"Potter, grow up already! It's not like we have to go on a date or anything horrid like that. Besides, you should be pleased that you got to be with someone as gorgeous as me," Malfoy argued, slipping his fingers around Harry's forearms in a painful grip.

"You are the last person I would ever want to be in here with! Just leave me alone!" Harry tried to free his arms, but Malfoy's grip was too strong. Harry struggled nervously. This wasn't headed in a good direction.

"So you're saying you'd rather snog Goyle? I'm actually kind of hurt." Draco's eyebrow shot up and he was smirking rather amusedly as he strangled Potter's wrists and slammed them into the wall above his head.

"Well, no, but…" Harry's discomfort was growing. Draco was now pinning him to the wall with his hips and Harry was reminded how much more attractive than Goyle Draco was.

Harry's determined bucking against Draco was not helping his situation much. He was struggling to get free, and the friction he was creating was starting to make his body tingle in what he desperately wished was not a pleasant way. At this closeness, Malfoy would feel every muscle in his body quivering, and Harry was beginning to feel something throbbing hotly against his stomach.

"Malfoy, get – off!" Harry forced between the frantic twisting of his neck.

"Potter – just…hold still," Malfoy ground out. Malfoy then transferred both of Harry's wrists into one hand and moved the other to latch firmly onto Harry's jaw, which clenched defiantly. Malfoy held Harry's face steady and stared fiercely into his angry green eyes before violently plunging forward and attacking Harry's tightly closed lips with his mouth.

The two boys were pressed closely against each other – every muscle lining up evenly with the same ones of the other boy. The moment Draco's lips latched onto Harry's the brunette closed his eyes and leaned into Draco – it wasn't worth fighting him anymore. Plus, the pressure of Draco against him felt sort of nice.

Before his mind could catch up with his body, Harry was kissing Draco back with a wild intensity that sent shivers down his spine. He had no idea how his brain had switched so quickly from disgust to lust, but the feel of Malfoy's body and his lips was suddenly driving him crazy. That was definitely Draco's erection pushing into his stomach, and Harry's cock began to stir a little at the feel of Draco throbbing against him. As their tongues dueled angrily, roughly clashing and sliding inside their mouths, Harry pulled his wrists free of Draco's grip and brought them shaking onto the Slytherin's back so that he could pull the boy even closer to him. Draco's hands immediately found Harry's arse and grabbed at it so that he could push their groins together.

Just as Harry's hands were about to wonder up underneath Draco's t-shirt an obnoxious alarm sounded inside the closet. Their seven minutes were up and they were free to leave. Draco reluctantly pulled his mouth off of Harry's before punching him in the face.

Harry, panting raggedly, glowered at Draco before slapping him across the cheek.

The door suddenly clicked open and the boys stepped out rapidly, glaring menacingly at each other.

"Bloody git."

"Sodding wanker."

As Harry sat down next to Ron, he noticed more than a few pairs of eyes staring curiously at him.

"Did you guys fight?" Ron asked suspiciously, staring at the bruise forming at the corner of Harry's mouth.

"What do you think?" Harry snapped defensively. Ron and Hermione both gave him sympathetic looks, which Harry stubbornly ignored.

The game continued, but Harry didn't notice any of it – he was too preoccupied thinking of how bloody brilliant Malfoy was at kissing. Harry hardly said a word all night – he was too mortified that the hottest and most erotic moment of his life had been shared with Draco Malfoy, of all people.

Later that night, when all the guests were leaving, Malfoy came up beside the trio and directed a smoldering glance at Harry, who was too dumfounded to respond, before turning to Hermione. "Not a bad choice for a game, Granger." Draco was now smirking cruelly at Harry. Hermione just glared, and Ron put his hand on Harry' s shoulder. "Don't worry Harry, it's just a game. It doesn't mean anything."

As Harry crawled into bed that night, he only wished Ron's words were true.