Hello everyone! Sorry for the long wait. It would have been up way sooner but my beta's and I had some technical difficulties. But its all good now. I think anyway. Naw, I'm just joshing with you everything is cool now. U might start another story because the plot bunnies in my head want me to finish stories. What do you think yes no? Tell me in your review. You like that ploy to get you to review. I do.

Many thanks to my betas for this chapter. followthedarke and FanofBellandEdward. I love you guys so much. And now on to the story. Oh before I forget.

Disclaimer. I didn't own this story. Not in the past and I won't own it in the future. Darn my luck.


Chapter 3-From McGonagall, With Love.

Harry was in pure bliss. He'd never experienced this much pleasure in his entire person behind him was torturing him in the most delicious way. This was in every way the best moment of his life. Coming to this party was by far the greatest and most enjoyable decision of his life.


Harry arrived right at 6:00 pm. Right on schedule. He was accompanied by none other than Ron and Hermione, who were in a bit of a lovers spat.

It started when Ron said that he was excited to see who would be at the party. Hermione immediately took offense thinking that he was looking forward to seeing some girl. Ron tried to get Hermione to see reason and even tried to pull Harry into the mix, but Harry would have none of that.

This was why Harry preferred to travel stag. There was none of the usual fuss that was always present when he traveled with the pair. When he was stag he didn't have to look after other people just himself. He was free to be himself.

He looked behind him and saw that the couple was still arguing. He sighed and walked forward, leaving them to deal with their own problems, sans him.

He rounded the corner to the door only to remember one small detail. He had forgotten the password. He knew that the password had something to do with boxers. There was something about a fabric and a color. Red cotton boxers? No that wasn't it. Orange polyester boxers? No that wasn't it either. Green silk boxers. Yes that's what it was.

He walked past the door thinking the password. The door opened and he was mesmerized.

The room was ornately decorated but yet so modern. The black and silver went together yet contrasted so nicely. It was as if dark meets light. Good meets bad. Every cheesy opposite pairing he could think of and then some.

He went for the punch bowl and was immediately stopped by none other than Neville Longbottom.

"Woah Harry. You wouldn't be trying to add anything to this punch are you? Because that would be bad." He finished with a slight growl accentuating his words. Those self- confidence classes that Harry had gotten him over the summer had really paid off.

"No Nevs. I just want some punch. Would you like to pour it for me?"

"Sure Harry." Neville poured Harry's the drink and Harry noticed two things. One: it contained fruit punch and two: it was definitely already spiked. Either Neville wasn't really good at his job, which by the looks of it he was, or this came already spiked. Harry put his money on the latter. There was no use in wasting good liquor so he swallowed it all in one fell swoop.

"Hey Nevs. How about one more glass?" Neville poured the glass and Harry again swallowed the entire thing one gulp. It burned a fiery trail down his throat and put him in the most comfortable place.

He was astounded by the fact that liquor could make you feel so good. It was every warm and fuzzy feeling you could think of conveniently placed in a bottle. He felt like all of his trouble melted away. No one wanted to be friends with him for just his name or hate him for it. He was just another guy in the world of magic. It was the best thing that wizards had ever invented.

Harry waved farewell to Neville and began aimlessly wandering around the room. With particular place to go he ended up stopping beside Hermione and Ron. Hermione was the first person to see his intoxicated state and immediately looked at him with disappointment.

"Harry James Potter. Are you drunk? You should be ashamed of yourself. I can't believe you-"

"You know what Hermione I really don't care what you have to say. I am sick and tired of your bullshit. And I think Ron will agree with me on that. Why don't you start acting lie a friend instead of a mom? Get a life and get out of mine." Harry ended in a final sort of way. Hermione looked absolutely shocked at the out burst. She had never had anyone talk to her like that. It was just shocking. Her face was beet red with a mingled look of anger and embarrassment. That was the only sign that she'd taken the words to heart.

"Harry, I see that you feel really strongly about this. Ron do you agree with what Harry said?" Ron looked down sheepishly but nodded his head none the less.

"Well then. I must that I will consider this and get back to you." The three of them strode off into the direction of the nearest wall each to sulk, not knowing that this was going to be the site for Seven Minutes in Heaven. Which is how Harry ended up in his current predicament.


The slender body behind him was doing the most wonderful things to him. So wonderful in fact that he felt the need to call out. He could no longer hold in all the moans and gasps of pleasure. His lip was beginning to look like chewed meat. He could even taste that tell-tale copper tang in his mouth. It was just a slight trickle but he could taste it none the less. He licked his lips several times to get rid of the taste before his partner found it. It wouldn't do to have the activities halt because he couldn't take the pressure.

"What's taking so long? I'm so hot for you. I want you to fuck me deep and hard. Right now. Come on." He blushed at the bluntness of the words. Thanking the alcohol for loosening up his tongue and lowering his inhibitions. To further punctuate his words he ground his hips backward. The movement made the boy behind him stiffen and not in a good way.

Harry quickly cataloged all the things that he had said. And then he hit his goal. All the things he had said. Everyone knew that you weren't supposed to talk when you were in the closet. That was, pardon the pun, an unspoken rule. That meant that whoever was behind Harry was someone that he knew.

He began to turn around but was held in place by a strong set of hands. The fingers that he had once been so eagerly searching for had returned. They played with his hole, all taunt and tight. Tracing the quivering orifice before delving in. All investigation that Harry had been about to partake in were wiped clean from his memory.

The first finger was a little awkward and Harry squirmed to get used to the intrusion. Just as he had become used to feeling another finger was added to the first and began to scissor in preparation for the upcoming event. A third and final finger was added and Harry had to bite down not to scream. He was being filled in the most delicious way. He thrust his hips down in earnest, trying to acquire more friction when the stranger behind him hit a bundle of nerves. He swore that he saw stars.

Suddenly the fingers were removed and Harry let out a little whimper. They were soon replaced with a leaking cock. Harry knew that there was no way that he could take that in, not without lubrication, so he turned around and dropped to his knees and tried his best to please.


Draco would have anything to be at the Daily Prophet right then. "Golden Boy on his Knees for Former Death Eaters Son". The press would have a field day. Who would have thought that 'The Boy Who Lived' was a submissive? That he enjoyed taking it up the arse? His fans and Pot-head worshipers would be devastated. And just imagine all the dimwitted girls who long to sleep with him. They'll be sorely disappointed.

Potter was obviously a novice for the way that his hand shakily grabbed his erection and started to stroke. However when Harry engulfed him, Draco had to rethink that accusation.

Potter sucked him as if he'd done this a million times. Applying the same technique that he had on his fingers to his cock. As much as he loathed to admit this was probably one of the best blow jobs he had ever experienced. Not wanting Potter to gain the upper hand, he tangled his fingers in his hair and pulled upward. Potter made this sort of mewling sound that was definitely not one of pain.

Draco roughly turned the boy around and pulled his bottom up so that he was facing away from Potter's face. He teased the boy's puckered entrance with his cock and the Potter let out a ragged moan. He prepared to thrust in but not before leaning close to Potter's ear.

"How do you like being treated like the dirty little whore you are Potter?" Managing to put so much scorn in that statement that he would have made his own father break that world famous, rigid Malfoy composure.

With that he released Potter's head and stalked out of the room with a smirk on his face. He wasn't going to wait around for Potter to grasp what he had just said and try to beat him to a pulp. He was going to tuck he tail between his legs and run. It may sound cowardly but he was a Malfoy. You have to learn to pick you battles, so that you live to fight another day. No matter how it had ended, that was by far the most fun he'd ever had playing Seven Minutes in Heaven.

He'd gotten halfway back to his seat when he was suddenly tackled by none other than said Golden Boy. It appeared that he had removed his blind fold and was now punching Draco senseless. Not one to be out done by anyone he rolled Potter over and removed his own blindfold. They were engaged in a full out brawl. Plenty of students rushed over to tear them apart but to no avail. As if out of nowhere ropes suddenly shot out and restrained the two boys.

"Somehow I knew that you two would not be able to contain yourselves." Said a voice with a certain tone of stern disappointment that could belong to one woman. McGonagall.

"I had high hopes for you two. Especially you Potter. I thought that with this being your final year here and the war being over that you two would be civil towards one another, but I guess I was wrong. That doesn't matter. I have a remedy for that. Since you two don't seem to be able to get along at all - no matter how many detentions you serve - there will be a new punishment. From this day forwards you two shall live together for the duration of the school year."

The two boys looked like someone had cast a particularly strong Confundus charm on the two of them . Neither had a word to say, well neither did until Draco opened his mouth.

"You can't do this to me. We are from different houses and we hate each other! My father will be hearing about this! How do I know that you aren't just doing this so that your precious little Golden Boy can murder me in my sleep?" His voice rising in hysterics with each sentence. His chest was heaving as though he just run in full sprint from a pack Aurors. And his pale face was tinged slightly pink from all the emotion.

The room was in dead quiet. No one had ever talked to Professor McGonagall in such a way. It was unheard of.

"Mr. Malfoy I can assure you no wants to murder you in your sleep." She mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'They'd probably rather torture you while you're awake first.' But that might have just been his imagination.

"Your rooming together will promote inter-house unity. Let's face it if you two can get along then anyone - no matter what their house should be able to get along - so there is no reason that you can't room together. If you are involved in anymore fights you will be expelled from the school. No ifs, ands, or buts. And I doubt your father would like to hear that. Do I make myself clear?"

Draco with a slight tinge of pink to his face, nodded his head. And Potter with a smirk worthy of a Slytherin did the same.

Draco drew himself up to his full height and turned back to his friends. They had an unspoken conversation in which they agreed to make Potters friends a living hell in his stead. He faced McGonagall with the look of man going into battle, one that he would knew he would either leave a changed man or not leave at all. This was going to be a long year.


A/n: So what did you think? Did you like or dislike? You probabaly think that I am a jerk for doing that. Please don't throw fruit unless its not rotten. I get hungry in this little box. Drunk Harry dolls for all who review.