Author: Frick (inHell)

Title: Shirt Lifter

Summary: "I resent that. I have never lifted a shirt before in my life ... Except my own, but that doesn't count." Draco POV. SLASH.

Rating: PG-15

Disclaimer: Number of HP characters in my possession: 0. Amount of money earned by the following story: £0.00.

WARNING: This story is, like, slash, as in boy/boy. If you have any, like, concerns or whatever, about reading such material, please go elsewhere. Now I'm not, like, responsible.

* * * *

"Alright then," I say briskly to the nervous sixth year. "You get twenty five Galleons, and that's only if you do a decent job."

I start undoing my belt buckle, and he glances around the dusty store room uneasily.

"Do you – er… have you done this before?" He stutters anxiously.

I smirk. "Of course. Why, haven't you?"

He shakes his head, a bit regretfully. "No. I mean, I always wanted to, I just didn't – I thought I was the only…" He trails off at my bored expression. "Never mind."

I found him, this closet-case Hufflepuff, checking me out in the library. His name is – well, it's… okay, so I don't remember, but what does it matter? He definitely knows mine. Nobody forgets Draco Malfoy. Of course, I'm planning on Memory Charming him after we've done this, so I don't know.

"So, er…" He kind of half crouches. "Shall we start?"

"Right." I unzip my trousers, wishing I'd chosen someone… not blonde. But the pickings are incredibly slim at Hogwarts, and I've gone though just about everyone of age in this school with even the slightest homosexual tendencies.

When he starts, I lean onto the shelf behind me, gripping it for support. He's definitely a natural, I think, leaning my head back. I listen to the slick sounds, my own deep breathing and – footsteps? Shit!

No, no. Don't panic. It's fine, they've gone past. It's fine. Relax, I tell myself. Hmm, relaaax…

I'm right on the brink of an orgasm when the door definitely does click, and I panic and kick the Hufflepuff off me. I turn and pull up my trousers so hastily that I elbow several jars and buckets off the shelf.

"Martin? Malfoy?" Comes an incredulous voice.

Oh no. Please don't tell me…

It can't be –

It's Potter. Looking bemused, with his hand still clutching the doorknob. I start fishing around in my robes.

"Harry!" Cries Martin in surprise. He covers his face in shame. "Oh, no – please Harry, please don't tell anyone! I'd just die!"

"No… I'm just going to…" Potter gulps, his eyes still wide. "Er – go."

"Stop!" I yell, pointing my wand in Potter's direction with the incantation on my lips, but he just lets out a yelp and slams the door quickly.

I rush out after him, but Martin grabs my sleeve.

"Malfoy, you can't do magic on another student! It's against the-"

His face slackens as my spell hits him, and I dash out into the corridor.

I say "Obliviate!" again, but it misses him as he skids sharply round the corner. Oh, fuck. The spell hits a suit of armour, and it goes tumbling and crashing loudly to the floor.

"What on earth…" Martin comes out of the store room, looking disorientated. His face tightens into a frown as he sees me, like it did in the library. Well, at least the spell worked. I suppose that's one thing.

"Malfoy? Did you do that?" He points behind me.

"Of course I didn't." I snap. "Potter did."

I hear him jump to Potter's defence, but I don't listen. I just take off at a stride down the corridor.

After remembering I don't actually know where the Gryffindor common room is, I sigh in frustration. Then I spend ages searching the area, with one aim: Blast Potter's Memory right out of his abnormally large head. I don't care if I send the nosy little bastard into a coma, because if he lives to tell anyone what he's seen...

I curse myself bitterly. I definitely should not have been so careless. I could have locked the door, or picked in a more unfrequented storage cupboard. In fact, I shouldn't have even given in to the temptation in the first place. But sometimes I just get really sick of Pansy's clammy hand jobs.

After a while I'm just wandering around uselessly, imagining the looks on everyone's face when they find out I'm gay. I've never been faced with that kind of ridicule before, at least not on such a grand scale, I don't think I can handle it. Oh, dear. I'm going to be shunned from Slytherin, aren't I? I'm going to be forced to live out the rest of my time at Hogwarts in seclusion, because as soon as people see me they're going to start throwing rotten tomatoes, which they'll keep in separate bags than their school ones so their stuff doesn't go all mouldy...

Because I'm so wrapped up in my own thoughts, I bump right into Pansy as she's coming out of a girl's bathroom.

"Oh, Draco, hi!" She says, sounding pleased. "You came looking for me, how sweet!"

I put on my most charming smile. "Of course I did." I say, as if there's nothing else I'd rather do.

But I'm still itching to find Potter before he can tell the entire school.

She suddenly starts giving me this odd look. I wonder why..? I can never-

Oh yes! It means she wants us to- oh no. Not again.

But I step forward and kiss her anyway, and she puts her hands on the sides of my face. I hope that's water she's all wet with. Ugh, I just grossed myself out. But still. It's all part of the being straight act, isn't it? I don't have much choice.

Well, I think bitterly, as she puts her hands inside my robes, when she dumps me after she finds out, I'll be able to act as gay as I like. I mean, there are obviously quite a lot of gay people in Hogwarts, aren't there? And some of them aren't too bad. Maybe if everybody knows, I'll get a lot more action. Obviously, I'll get a lot more shunned, too.

No. They can't. They can't find out. Nobody can find out, I won't be able to live it down. People just aren't tolerant of homosexuals, are they? Well, not people that matter. Snape... all the Slytherins... and all the other Houses hate me anyway, don't they? They'd jump at any chance to belittle me. I'd rather die than let this secret out. No, ignore that, I wouldn't die. I'd kill, though. In a heartbeat.

"What do you keep looking around for?" Pansy says, as we walk back down to the dungeons.

It's because I'm still craning my neck, looking, just in case Potter's decided to hang about around other store rooms. Maybe it's his favourite pastime, I don't know. The hand that Pansy isn't holding on to is clutched around my wand, to whip it out in a flash if I spot him.

"Well... what?" She nudges me.

"Oh... er." I'm too distracted to think up a lie. "Nothing."

See, that just goes to show how badly I'm traumatised by all this! I can't even lie, for Pete's sake! Me, Draco "lying scumbag" Malfoy! It's not fair!

"Anyway, do you know where those brainless Gryffindors live?" I say, in a horrible forced-casual kind of way.

Pansy shrugs. "Dunno. Seventh floor?"

Bloody hell. The Seventh floor. That's where I was – where we – well... that's where the store room is. No wonder Potter was there. Their common room is probably right next door; maybe I'm just lucky his whole bleeding House didn't walk in on us.

* * * *

Back at our common room, all Pansy wants to do is sit on my knee and make kissy faces. All this means to me is that any residual desire left from that Hufflepuff's unfinished blowjob is absolutely gone.

"Draco..." Pansy whispers, leaning her forehead against my own. "I really think tonight should be the night we... you know, for the first time."

Oh, crap... I can't say no, now, we've been going out for nearly six months. She'll know I'm gay if I refuse. I should have seen this coming. Of course the next steps coming up. Now, watch me stub my toe on it.

Pansy is... well, she's quite... she's not – okay. She's not as slim and toned as her robes make her look, let's put it that way. She's not fat, not at all, just a bit... jiggly.

Needless to say, I keep my eyes closed throughout the whole thing. I also make the entirely wrong assumption that, if I concentrate enough, I can imagine I'm doing it with someone else. But of course, Martin the Hufflepuff wouldn't press his breasts against me in a very disgusting way.

Afterwards, we are uncomfortably stuck together, and she's drifting off to sleep. I wait until she's snoring, then peel myself off her and take a very, very long shower.

Damn Potter. This is all his fault. Hopefully, though, "Draco can't be gay, I had sex with him last night" holds more water than "I think I saw Malfoy getting oral sex off a guy". Hopefully.

If not – what could I possibly do? Would my father let me drop out? I doubt it... he'd probably wash his hands of me altogether. I'd have to start working like a Muggle for a living, as some Assistants assistant at the Ministry, and I'll never get promoted, because everyone knows my secret, and the only reason I'm not fired is because everyone's still secretly afraid of my father...

It's going to be dreadful.

After my shower, I put some pyjamas on (I don't care about the heat, the less skin to skin contact I have with Pansy the better) and climb back into bed.

An hour later, Greg, Vince and Blaise creep up and start whispering.

"Is Pansy in his bed? I heard Baddock say he saw them come up together... go on, Vince, check."

"No way, she'd kill me! Greg, you check."

"Hold on..." Footsteps get closer to my bed. I squeeze my eyes shut. "What if they're still awake? What if they're..." His voice drops even more, "doing it?"

"Shhh! I just heard him!" Hisses Blaise, and I hear them all scramble quickly into their beds.

I almost laugh. But I can't even summon a smile.

* * * *

The next day I have Herbology, and there's a light fog around the castle and grounds. At breakfast, I was keeping my ears pricked and my eyes peeled for any signs of rumour-spreading around my table. Every time someone said "did you hear..?", I snapped to attention, and only relaxed when it was followed by "that's not Irene's real nose" or "N'Chant are splitting up".

I only picked Herbology because Snape made me. Well, he didn't make me; he just didn't give me many other options. At our careers interview, I kind of mentioned I might possibly think about wanting to go into a teaching career, and he said I wouldn't even be considered for a job unless I had a NEWT in an outside lesson. The only other outside lesson Hogwarts offers is Care of Magical Creatures. And when I tried to enquire about other careers he ended the meeting abruptly and walked out.

So, here I am, the only Slytherin, in a greenhouse full of nature freaks. Learning about plants, and fertilizer.

Afterwards, I trudge back into the castle, muddy and sweating, carrying a large plant that I've just re-potted. The homework is to figure out what it is, and how to keep it alive. As soon as I'm out of Sprout's sight, I dump it and get out my wand to levitate it.

"I heard a rumour about you, Malfoy," comes a voice behind me, and my heart stops.

This is it, it's happening, right now. I should have prepared for this, done some stretches, or something.

"What rumour?" I say, trying to sound savage. It comes out a bit squeaky.

Wayne Hopkins walks right past me, smirking, as he speaks. "I heard you're crap in bed."

My mouth drops open in horror, and for a split second I think my Memory Charm on that Hufflepuff didn't work after all. No, that's stupid. This must be Pansy's doing. I should have known. She was gone before I woke up, and she wasn't at breakfast. I didn't really miss her.

But now, now I will kill her. They will never find her body.

Why would she say something like that? If I was crap last night, it's only because she repulsed me! I can't believe... she's such a... a heartless... evil... how dare she!

When I get back to my dorm, I start pacing, trying to work out the knot of frustration in my stomach. I can't believe it... after all I went through, I'm getting humiliating things spread about me anyway! This, on top of what Potter's going to tell everybody, is going to ruin me. I'll be a laughing stock. This is too much, I can't deal with this...

No. Yes I can. If Pansy thinks she can get away with this... she's got another think coming. I am so going to get my revenge. But what would embarrass her most of all?

Actually, forget embarrassment, I am going to destroy her soul.

Okay, maybe not her soul. I'm not that good. Let's go for her reputation. And I have the perfect plan. All I need to do is take a quick trip to the Owlery. I don't want to go to dinner anyway, not if the hot topic is my sexual prowess. Or... lack thereof.

So, I write The Perfect Letter of Revenge, seal it professionally, and head up there. I call down my Black and White Owl, which I got for Christmas. It's so much better than my old one. Whatever happened to him...? I give it the letter and its instructions, and it flies up to the top of the tower, out of sight.

I feel slightly appeased as I leave the Owlery. I'm such a genius when it comes to revenge, like that time when-

As if this stupid day couldn't get any worse, I spot Potter down the corridor and try to quickly duck back round the corner.

"Malfoy?" He says, obviously surprised at my behaviour.

I step out to face him, arranging my face into a scowl. He looks faintly amused.

"You're... gay, aren't you?" He says.

Let's all just state the bloody obvious.

"Shut up." I snap. "No I'm not."

Like I'm going to admit it. He could be recording this conversation for evidence for all I know.

"Yeah right," he grins evilly, "so what was Martin Silverman doing down there? Buffing your shoes?"

"Shut up!" I say again, louder. "I'm going to deny it, you know, everyone's going to think – I mean, they're just going to know that you're spreading lies."

I think I covered that one pretty well. And I spoke loudly, too, in case anyone was listening.

But he just looks like he's going to burst out laughing, and that makes me want to strangle him. I step forward threateningly.

"Whoa!" Potter steps back, and puts his palms up, "You're not going to kiss me, are you?" He taunts. "I know what you shirt lifters are like, and I don't swing that way."

"I'll swing you, you son of a bitch!" I snarl, reaching out to throttle him.

He catches my hands. "And even if I did," he mocks, as we grapple, "I heard you're a crap lay anyway – so the answers still... no!"

He punctuates the last word by pushing me hard. I stumble backwards and fall, hitting my tailbone sharply on the flagstones.

I give a yelp of pain and surprise, and Potter walks off, calling over his shoulder.

"Anyway, I've not told anyone yet," he laughs, "I'd rather blackmail you first."

* * * *

A/N: And thus ends chapter one. Do come back for the next one, won't you? A review would be absolutely splendid, thanks!