Disclaimer: I think that we've all established that if we post a story on this site, that we don't own any of what we write about. Well maybe the story line/plot but that's basically it. I don't own Harry Potter. All of it belongs to its rightful owners.

A/N: So, my other story 'Invisible' hasn't been updated recently. I know, and I'm sorry. But I have this really annoying thing that you might know as writer's block. So in the meantime I came up with this oneshot. Oh, and please don't ask about the picture for the story. Idk either.

Summary: A game of 7 Minutes in Heaven gives Draco hope. But then it breaks all of that hope at the same time.

Warnings: Slash, sort of. It doesn't have a happy ending, just sayin'.


8th years. They're like 7th years, but worse. Both think that they're all that and can get away with anything they want-which some can, if you know the right people. But one difference is that the 7th years are innocent teenagers who like to boss little 1st year Hufflepuffs around. 8th years are war-corrupted, depressed, 'I-Only-Talk-To-3-Or-Less-People', kind of bossy. Which really isn't even bossy.

They just have this aura surrounding them that tells you to get out of their way. Sure, tons of kids have been through the war, and haven't been the same since. But the current 8th years are the ones who've been through since the beginning and all the way 'til the end. And by that I mean from Harry Potter's start of Hogwarts to now. Anyways, back to the part I was talking about where 7th and 8th years can pretty much get away with anything. It's expected, since not a lot of people are too fond of tattle-telling on the person who can hex you to pieces.

But occasionally, teachers find 7th years snogging in broom closets. But then, there are the people who never get caught; the majority being 8th years. Take Seamus Finnegan for example. He hosts parties in the Room of Requirement weekly, and has never gotten caught for any of them. And if teachers have known, they haven't showed it. This week's party was rather interesting. Hermione Granger was a little more tipsy than one would expect, and she suggested they play a muggle game called '7 Minutes in Heaven'.

"I'm not playing some stupid muggle game." a dark skinned, Italian accented boy by the name of Blaise Zabini pressed. "Absolutely not,"

"But it'll be fun!" a pissed and frizzy haired Hermione Granger giggled. Her ginger haired boyfriend looked at her with horrified eyes. It's not everyday you find yourself with analcoholic-filled Hermione sitting next to you.

"C'mon Zabini, why not?" another boy with fitted black jeans and a sky blue tee-shirt just appeared in the room. His untamed black hair and vivid green eyes were something that everyone should recognize-Harry Potter.

"No way,"

"I'll play," a girl sitting next to Blaise with a black bob cut and a rather ugly pug-face stood up and sat next to Hermione.

"Why thank you Pansy,"

"You're absolutely pissed, Granger."

"So am I!" everyone turned to find an Irish brunette walk (more like stumble) over to their group with a fair skinned boy next to him.

"Shut up Seamus," the fair skinned boy said, rolling his eyes.

"Seamus, Dean, are you two playing?" Harry asked. They both nodded and joined the somewhat of a circle.

"Blaise, Draco, get your arses over here now." Pansy hissed, her wand sticking out of her sleeve just so that only a Slytherin could see. Of course, Harry, Hermione, and Ron could also see it, being that their instincts were alert as fuck just as they were when they were horcrux hunting... but that's not the point. Draco and Blaise looked at each other, then at Scary Pansy's face, then at her wand, then decided to join the game before they got AK'd.

After they fixed their big blob of people, the almost-perfect circle consisted of Harry, Hermione, Ron, Seamus, Dean, Pansy, Draco, Blaise, Hannah Abbott, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and Terry Boot. Harry Accio'd one of their empty Firewhiskey bottles, and then the game began.

Luna was the first to spin. Humming lightly, she spun the bottle which landed on Pansy. The Slytherin's face showed no emotion while Luna stood up, took Pansy's hand, and skipped to the closet, murmuring about Nargles. The whole room, even of those who weren't playing, was quiet until the 7 minutes were up, and the two girls reappeared from the closet.

Next was Terry Boot spun next, and his bottle landed on Hannah. Terry stood up and walked up the closet door, patiently for Hannah. The room was once again quiet until the two emerged from the smaller room.

Then, it was Harry Potter's turn. He waited until Terry and Hannah were seated, the sat up straight. He took the bottle by it's thinnest part, and spun and it quickly. The bottle spun for probably at least a minute before it almost landed on Blaise. But it didn't. It landed on Draco. Draco held his breath and nervously stood up, trying as hard as possible not to show any emotion, and stay as calm and collected as possible. No one knew, but he had an enormous crush on Harry Potter. Though, if he ever told anyone, they'd probably tell him he was lying, because he never showed it. But it's true. He wanted to cuddle Harry. He wanted to kiss Harry. He wanted to sit in Harry's lap and ask for help in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

But he couldn't.

They were just friends, and nothing more. Draco supposed he should be thankful.

Friends are better than enemies. But still, he wanted more.

While Draco stood thinking this, Harry got up, dusted of his jeans, and headed towards the closet, motioning for Draco to follow. Once they were in, Draco noticed how small the closet actually was.

"So, what do we do, exactly?" Draco asked.

"Anything we want, really," Harry shrugged. "Everything that happens here stays a secret, the closet has a silencing spell on it, and the doors locked 'til 7 minutes are up."

"Anything?"

"Well yeah, most people snog. It's basically the point of the game."

"So can we?" Draco paused. "Snog, I mean." Merlin this is awkward, Draco thought to himself. But if it was going to give him a chance to kiss Harry, then he was all for it. Harry merely shrugged, moved closer to Draco, and kissed him.

Draco had never been kissed before. Yes, it sounds ridiculous, but it's true. This was his first kiss. And it was amazing. Harry's slightly chapped lips slowly moved against his. They were soft and inviting, and didn't taste of cherries like Blaise always described. Of course though, Harry wasn't a girl. The blond Slytherin wrapped his arms lightly around Harry's neck and they snogged for another 2 or 3 minutes, taking a few second breaks in-between.

"Um," Draco mumbled, glad the closet's darkness was there to hide his blush. Now is the time, a voice in the blonde's head that he was pretty sure wasn't his own told him. You already made-out, so what's so bad about asking him on a date? Draco took a deep breath, ready to curse his own conscience if something went wrong. "Harry?"

"Yeah?" the Gryffindor answered, his calm, slow breaths making it sound like he hadn't spent the last 3 minutes kissing someone… or anyone.

"WouldyouliketogotoHogsmeadew ithmetomorrow?" the blond rushed out quickly and quietly.

"Um Draco?"

"Yeah?" Draco's head perked up quickly.

"Can you repeat that again?"

"Oh, uh, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow?" he mumbled.

"Yeah, sure! Why do you sound so scared about it? Draco, we've been to Hogsmeade plenty of times." the Boy-Who-Lived chuckled.

"No, I mean like, on a date," the Slytherin corrected nervously.

"Why do you—" then, Harry got it. "Oh, um. Draco, you know that kiss didn't mean anything, right? You're like my best mate. You and Ron are my best friends. But I don't like you like that."

"But you," Draco cut it.

"Like I said, snogging is practically the whole point of this game. Would you have rather sat here and do nothing for 7 minutes, or have a quick make-out session that would've meant nothing?" Harry asked. Sat here and do nothing, Draco thought sadly.

A soft click of the door's lock told the two that the 7 minutes were up.

"I'll still go to Hogsmeade with you, Draco. But not like that. Anyways, it was probably nothing, no one really loves me like that. And to be honest, I don't think I'm ready to love anyone like that. You'll find someone a lot better than me, Draco. Promise," Harry offered the Slytherin a small smile and stood up to leave.

All that hope that he had thinking that Harry might have actually liked him back disappeared. It just flew away like a dandelion in a windy meadow. All of it crumbled along with his heart.

Draco wanted to cry. He wanted to sob. He wanted to break himself apart and show how bad Harry hurt him. But he couldn't. He just sat in the corner of that closet with an emotionless face. He couldn't even hear the rest of the group ask,

"Where's Draco?"

fin.