A/N: Obviously, I am carrying out this storyline despite what has happened in the OOTP. Possibly I will edit the story later when it's finished, to make it more fitting in the current state of affairs in the HP world.
A/N II: Thanks for every one who's reviewed and thought this story's worth reading. It means a lot to me, to receive even one single word of feedback, just to know what I'm writing this for.
A/N III: The party house milieu of this chapter is based on the images from the movie Philosopher's Stone.
20. Cracked Infidelity
"Alright… We better get finally going, don't you think, Harry?"
Ron was standing in the middle of the Gryffindor common room, his hands on Hermione's hips. Obviously the two of them were going to have a good snog later in the evening, which slightly made Harry feel appalled. It was not that he wasn't happy for them, but more likely because he knew how badly they both would take the news of him being in love with Draco Malfoy, when the truth inevitably once broke out. He wanted acceptance, he wanted them to think it was normal and okay, and he just couldn't imagine them reacting in the wished way.
Harry would never be standing in the middle of the common room, his hands on Draco's hips, looking both so carefree and artificially cocksure that Ron looked right now.
"Yeah… I just… Wouldn't you go beforehand? I have something to do."
Hermione glared at him suspiciously.
"It won't be taking a long time, I promise," Harry hastily continued. "It's just that… I need to go to, em, meet someone."
Ron's eyes flickered with amusement. "Oh, you're going to see your… boyfriend."
Hermione gasped at this statement. "What?"
"Harry's got a boyfriend," Ron grinned, very much amused of the fact that he was the one to tell the news to Hermione.
Harry shifted slightly in his chair, looking both sulking and amused. "Thanks, Ron, I wasn't sure how to tell her that myself, since I'm so well-known of keeping secrets from my best friends," he mocked.
"Come on, now, Harry, I know you were going to tell her tonight," Ron massaged Hermione's shoulders, "But I wanted my part of the fun. I wanted to see her expression!"
"Excuse me! I'm still in the room, Mr. Ronald Weasley!" Hermione huffed. "And Harry, what's this talk about having a… a boyfriend?"
"I'm gay, Mione," Harry said airily, investigating the cuticles of his left hand fingers.
"You… you're… you're gay," she stated.
"I am," Harry sighed, a supercilious smile lingering over his lips.
"Since when?" Hermione's lower lip was slightly trembling. "And… and who is he?"
"Yeah, who is he?" Ron asked twice as eagerly. "Are we going to be introduced tonight?"
Harry snickered. "Perhaps… or perhaps not. Depends on him, I think… the way he behaves himself."
Hermione seemed to have real difficulties in absorbing this information, and accepting it as well.
"But I always thought you… you wanted a family, a wife, plenty of kids… And Lavender… Oh, and Ginny… I always thought you would…"
"I'm sick and tired of thinking what other people think I ought to do with my life," Harry gently smiled. "I realised that a couple of days ago, when I was making out with him in here."
Ron and Hermione didn't catch the full meaning of the sentence immediately, but when they did, they both went wide-eyed and their mouths hung open.
"In here?" they both shouted, simultaneously.
"Well, yes, nothing much to take a note of," Harry drawled. "It wasn't like we disturbed anybody."
"Harry!" Hermione shrieked. "This is very… shocking news!"
Ron pulled her into an embrace. "Cool it down, dah-ling, he's just trying to shock you, so that he would have an easy escape of the situation."
Harry smirked, which didn't quite suit him at all. "Tha's right, Ickle Ronnekins… I'm trying to get you two shocked and going, so that I could have my own plans for the night accomplished."
"Well, Harry Potty-poo, not workin' eh? Because we're dragging you right along with us now, and no protesting. We are already late, and I'm sure that your secret lover's already in the party, too," Ron smirked back. "You can check from the Marauders', if you like to make sure."
Harry scowled, however smiling heartily. "Alright, Wiizlyh-buns, I'm coming. As long as you don't expect me to watch you two snogging the entire evening."
"Can't promise you that," Ron flashed a smile.
Hermione didn't say anything. Her expression was expressionless. She was in obvious mental disarray.
Draco Malfoy was sitting with Warrington, Bole, Montague and Etre in the Slytherin common room, taking serious drafts from one of the green glass bottles that had emerged from Warrington's trunk. They were all still dressed up the way they were at breakfast, Draco being in his bronze clothing and the rest of them wearing the black, 'Slytherin Is THE Sexiest' T-shirts and black trousers.
However, Draco had had the time to take a bath in between, as well as do all his homework. He was a skilful student, who managed to get everything over and done with in the shortest of time if he wanted. And now he had all the time in the world to absorb himself into drinking.
"So, who were the winners?" he asked Montague, who was briskly pouring more dragon blood into his respective bottle. "I mean, who got those stupid Ilfracombe tickets?"
"Heard 'em were Fnic-finch-Feltch-fletcletlethcley and Dennis Creeeevey," mumbled Bole, being already intoxicated beyond reasonable talking skills.
Draco raised him a brow. "Finch-Fletchley and Creevey? How atrocious is that! I mean, nothing wrong with Finchie, except that he's a sordid mudblood, but DENNIS CREEVEY? Now who the hell gave him the right to vote in the first place?" fumed Draco. "Disgusting!"
"You're just fucked because you couldn't have that holiday with Harry, Draco," giggled Etre. "Admit it!"
"I could have a holiday with him, whenever I wanted!" Draco protested, taking a sip from his bottle. "It's not like either of us is short of money, or power, or anything for that matter."
"So…" interrupted Warrington. "Are you two coming out, tonight?"
Draco snorted. "I bet Potter's not ready to tell his sidekicks just yet, fearing that Weasley would beat us both up and badly, and that Granger girl would get a heart-attack."
"So you will leave it to Potter to decide when you come out and open?" Etre asked. "Rather unselfish of you. Are you softening to his charms, Dracey? Are you in luuuuve?"
Everyone laughed at Draco's slightly flushed cheekbones. Luckily, he could later on explain it with how much he had been drinking.
"I'm not the one in love here, and I am not planning to be, either," he snarled. "It's Potter who's in love with me, and I just can't see anything wrong with that arrangement. He's soft wax in my hands, and when I decide to end our thing… He'll be so lost, I guarantee. It will be fun."
"You don't believe that even yourself, Draco," Montague said severely. "You think Harry's in love, do you? Well then you should take some serious time thinking what that really means. Not everybody here could win that fellow's heart, you know! You shouldn't crush it. You're happy with him, Draco, we all know you are. You look much healthier nowadays. You really shouldn't think of breaking up with him. You're gonna break up yourself, that way."
Draco didn't reply. He knew Montague was right. But his father… The Dark Lord… Damn, did they have expectations of him! What should he do? Who should he betray? Did he have to betray anyone? Except himself? Fuck.
"So… The party's starting any minute…" he drawled, wanting to change the subject.
"Yeah, and Snape wants us in the Red Chamber in time," remembered Warrington. "Did he really visit that old goof of a giant tonight, Draco?"
"He said he would," Draco grunted. "So, let's get going, unless any of you wants to stay without firestorm whiskey of Hagrid, the secret Hard Liqueur maker of Hogwarts."
Harry, Ron and Hermione left for the East Wing together. They remembered it well from their adventure back in their first year at the school, when they were accidentally led at the wing because of a moving staircase. Feeling a bit awkward, the trio now voluntarily let the staircase turn to the West Wing's direction.
"Hope Hagrid's collected Fluffy away," Ron twisted his mouth. "Wouldn't be nice to have that three-headed monster as our common room pet."
"Yeah," Harry grinned. "Although I can't help wondering… What has become of that small room where Fluffy was guarding the trapdoor? Toilets for our new gathering area? A snogging cupboard?"
"Might as well ask what has become of those rooms where the trapdoor leads," Hermione wondered. She was trying to make a normal conversation, after a long, silent walk of fifteen minutes from the Gryffindor Tower to the third floor aisle. "You know… For example, what's come of the room where you encountered You-Know-Who for the first time, Harry? Do you expect that Dumbledore would have done something to that area, too?"
"Well, maybe," Harry smiled at Hermione. He was happy that she was at least trying to act normally in his company.
"I don't care, as long as I don't have to meet the Devil's Snare anew," Ron muttered.
They didn't have the time to ponder the issue further, because they were now at the very entrance to the East Wing, where they could find out the answers to their questions by just walking in and looking around. There was a huge, gilded plate attached to the massive old door, which said 'For All the Lions, Serpents, Badgers and Eagles in common'. The door, once been screaming with un-oiled hinges, now swung swiftly open.
A marvellous sight greeted the Gryffindor trio as they entered the newly decorated East Wing.
The formerly eerie, huge hall was now without any of the glory of the ancient spider webs –it was all clean and polished and as much as inviting. The scary statues were still there, however, but they seemed to melt into the environment as some grotesque art that was meant to sophisticatedly startle the by-passing people. And what was the most amazing change –everything was cream white.
"I can't believe this is the same hall," Hermione whispered. "Look at this! Here are at least fifty ivory tables and twice as many sofas, divans and armchairs… all of them so pure white."
"White is a rather neutral colour," Harry stated, also astounded. "It isn't a House colour."
"Wonder if there's a spell keeping them all clean?" Hermione found her practical side finally. "White is quite delicate to get dirty."
Harry had a mental image of Draco at the mention of 'white' and 'get dirty', and he grinned inwardly.
"Oh, look, there's a fountain! With a moving marble Pegasus!" Hermione's eyes gleamed. "How beautiful! And oh, there are real, non-magical fires in the grates! Upon my honour, I've never seen anything like this! So… cosy, yet so festive… and so…"
"Where is everybody?" Ron wondered out loud, ignoring Hermione's outburst of admiration. "There are only some stupid first and second years, and some third and fourth years. Where is everyone else?"
The answer was given to them when they saw Justin Finch-Fletchley and Wayne Hopkins emerging from a very familiar-looking door at their right.
"Oh, goody, someone's made use of Fluffy's bedroom after all," Ron grinned. "Wonder what's in there!"
"Oh, probably just the toilets," Harry smiled lopsidedly and pulled his friends towards the little chamber. "Let's find out, shall we?"
When peering inside 'Fluffy's bedroom', they saw that nothing had changed. The beautiful enchanted harp still stood in the corner, now playing a merry tune for the students, more precisely some Irish drinking song that Harry remembered Seamus singing in the shower once. The lightning was dim because there were no candles, only the night sky intruding into the room from the three gothic windows. The trapdoor was invitingly open. Another huge, gilded plate was set before their eyes.
"Not for the witches or wizards under the age of fifteen", Hermione read, crumpling her nose slightly. "Wonder what that is all about?"
"Obviously it's about not letting in underage kids," Ron stated.
"Ron, we are all underage kids," Hermione corrected him.
Ron gently jostled her arm. "But you still got my meaning, didn't you, smartass?"
Hermione harrumphed.
"Oookay, who wants to go in first?" Harry asked.
"I'm definitely interested, but knowing that the Devil's Snare used to be there…" Ron looked uncomfortable.
"I can go," Harry said and sauntered at the trapdoor. "I'll tell you if the Devil's Snare's still there or not."
"Okay," Hermione agreed. She wasn't that eager to spoil her party dress in the arms of a greedy plant. "Just be careful."
Harry gave her a look that indicated that he was always careful. And even if he was not, he was still the four-time winner of Voldemort, so what could a pathetic little strangler plant possibly do to him? Harry jumped down from the trap and vanished.
"Ouch!"
"Fucking hell!"
"Harry!" Hermione and Ron cried simultaneously, grabbing each other in slight alarm.
"I'm… er… okay," was the muffled reply.
Harry had landed on Draco Malfoy, who was angry as a pissed dragon when having his bronze shirt crumpled. But when the Slytherin found out who his attacker was, he had hastily captured Harry's lips into a tight lock, making the Gryffindor plead for oxygen after only ten seconds of the intense kiss.
Then he pulled apart and glanced around, luckily finding that there had been nobody to see.
"Potter, why the devil didn't you use the ladder?" Draco inquired.
"Um… huh?" Harry looked confused, but turned his gaze into the direction of a fine, white wooden ladder behind him. Then he grinned. "Must have been the old habit."
"Or you just like to make tragic entries, is all," Draco smirked.
"Learned from the best, Malfoy," Harry smirked back.
Harry now found out that they were sprawled on a thick, soft black mattress that reached the room from wall to wall. It was velvety and very sinking.
"Harry! Harry, are you alright?" Ron shouted, and Harry saw his red head emerging in the trapdoor hole, peering downwards at him and Draco.
"Yes, if not counted the fact that my middle body's strangled by Malfoy's fucking legs," Harry tried to sound irritated.
"Thanks a lot, Pot-head, but my feet are not the part of my body that are doing the fucking, in case you haven't noticed," Draco grinned. "Get the fuck off me, Potter!"
"We're coming down to help you, mate," Ron declared.
"Yes, only use the ladd…"
THUMP!
"Oh, shit, Ron!" Harry groaned, as his best friend landed on both him and Malfoy.
"Get your slimy hands off my waist, Weasley," Draco shrieked, "I might get envenomed!"
"Shut up, Malfoy, and leave Harry alone," Ron glared at the Slytherin, his hair flaming in the dim candlelight.
He honestly looked a bit scary to Draco, although he didn't admit that.
"I don't take orders from a Weasley," Draco snarled. "And do take your freaky hands off my waist already!"
Ron looked a bit taken aback, and Harry snorted. Both Draco and Ron looked at him curiously.
"What's the fun in this situation, Harry?" Ron made a face, retreating as far away from Malfoy as possible.
"Would you two just stop bickering for one night, for Merlin's sake," he giggled. "Might do you both good."
Ron looked dumbfounded, and Draco searched something of significance from Harry's eyes. However, Harry managed to make an expression that told Draco not to reveal anything, and to Ron that he had just been silly.
"Oh, alright, I know that nobody's able to restrain from a fight with you, Malfoy, you just love to create and carry them out, don't you," Harry sighed. "But guess what? I'm not going to fight with you tonight. I don't want to waste my time to that. So you can either bugger off now, or agree with a truce with me and Ron."
"Hey, I didn't say anything about wanting to make a truce with that ferret face!" Ron pouted.
"And I have no inclination to make a truce with you, Gingerhead," Draco hissed. "But with Potter…" Draco turned to smile slyly at Harry. "I might give it a try. Just for the fun of it."
By this time, Hermione had managed to climb down the ladder with her long-hemmed evening dress.
"What's up down here?" she asked, nervously eyeing Draco, Harry and Ron.
"A truce," Harry replied, feeling a little tingle in his belly. He would be able to act almost openly with Draco all the evening, under the cover of being friends!
"A truce indeed," smirked Draco, heaving himself up from the mattress-covered floor. He didn't like to look up at a Mudblood. "Potter and I have just agreed not to fight tonight."
"We'll see about that," Ron muttered silently.
"What was that, Weasley?" Draco's eyes cast ice daggers.
"Oh, come on, let's go and see what the party house looks like!" Harry groaned, and escorted his friends up the stairs that led out of the small circular chamber.
Draco smirked and followed.
As they were nearing the hall where the keys had once been flying, they met other students as well. Ron and Hermione couldn't suppress their awe as they found the roofless, very high hall echoing with beautiful, calming music, the weird construction of arches glimmering with blue, phosphoric lightning. The moon cast its beams straight down from the unattainable hole of a ceiling, making the people beneath look like bathed in milk. Harry glanced at Malfoy, seeing how he fitted perfectly in the picture with his pale locks, and for once not even knowing it himself.
"This is very tranquillising," Hermione whispered. "Look, all those beautiful shining pillows and mattresses… and floating, legless tables…"
"And the music… bet it is Mozart," Harry smiled. "After all, he was a half-blood, just like me. Not that any of the Muggles knew, though…"
They caught a glimpse of something shining, and realised that the keys were still there, flying about the arches like golden mosquitos.
"I think I already like the idea of this shared common room," Ron said.
Draco found Crabbe and Goyle and sauntered off.
"Good, we got rid of him at last," Hermione huffed.
"Hey, let's go further! I wanna see what's in the next room," Ron said.
"You call these halls 'rooms'?" Hermione asked, and shook her head.
Harry, Ron and Hermione all gasped at the same time when entering the next chamber. The huge Wizard Chess board, formerly known as battlefield, was now cleaned and polished, and was being used as a huge dance floor. The blue and white marble squares were reflecting the dancers' images, and beautiful, real fires were set to illuminate it from all the four sides. The counters, all soldiers and horses and towers, either broken or unbroken, were covered with soft pillows and mattresses, and they now made the most imaginable furniture around the huge hall.
"Bloody fucking hell," Ron winced. "Someone's exceeded themselves!"
"Glad you like it, Mr. Weasley, because I saw great trouble for it," an acidic snarl was heard from behind the trio's backs.
"P-professor Snape!" Ron yelped.
"That's correct," the black-robed head of Slytherin sneered.
"You have decorated this place?" Ron was still shaken with sudden fright and didn't remember to be quite that polite.
"Obviously the Headmaster wanted somebody with taste to do it," Snape grunted. "Minerva has the annoying habit of making everything so prudent, not to mention Pomona Sprout… The poor woman has barely had a snog in her life, thus understanding nothing of the importance of the private chambers."
Ron and Hermione looked shocked about Snape's last comment.
"Why are you telling us this?" Harry asked, suspicious. It wasn't like Snape to come and chitchat with the Gryffindor students, least of all Harry Potter and his friends. Or was he drunk already?
"Oh, I just came to tell you that here can be found some very interesting surprises, Potter," Snape almost smiled.
"Well. We'll have an interesting evening ahead of us, then," Harry replied.
Snape merely sneered, then bowed down and whispered into Harry's ear, "The Red Chamber, Potter. And do try to make it alone, for once in your life."
And he sailed off, his black cloak billowing again almost unnaturally.
"How does he do that?" wondered Harry.
"Blower under the robes?" suggested Hermione.
Ron looked confused, understanding nothing about the Muggle devices. "What's a blower?"
Harry laughed. "I'll explain it to you later."
"So, what did he say to you?" Hermione asked, looking in Harry's green eyes that looked a little mysterious.
"He said… we should enjoy ourselves," Harry decided.
Ron gave him a disbelieving stare, and Hermione tugged her lower lip out, clearly dissatisfied.
"He did, too!" Harry whined. Because he was quite sure he was not lying. Just interpreting Snape's words a bit.
Namely, Harry was certain he would have a very enjoyable evening ahead. Heaven forbid, Severus Snape willingly offering Hagrid's booze to him! Harry silently couldn't help wondering if it was Draco's request, or Snape's own decision for some curious reason.
"Um, there's still one room left to study," Harry reminded his friends. "It's the place where I… you know, where the Mirror of Erised was."
"Yes! You three just go and see that place!" shouted Seamus from behind his back, and jumped on Harry and Ron's necks. "It's now a huge bar! The house-elves will bring you anything you want!"
"Anything?" Harry was suspicious.
"Well, um, nothing stronger than cider or wine, but still… Hey, Dean! Wait for me!"
Hermione, Harry and Ron watched their friends rally about the dance floor, chasing each other and winking their eyes at several girls, including very gleeful Lavender Brown.
"Okay… I'm heading for the bar," Ron smiled and grabbed Hermione's arm. "And you're definitely coming with me!"
"Ron…"
"Don't even try to protest, we had loads of fun the last time you were drunk…!"
"Ron!" Hermione smacked him in the head playfully, but followed all the same. Perhaps they'd manage another good snogging session after all.
Harry found his chance to sneak away.
Draco Malfoy was sitting in a sinking, deep red sofa, smoking a cinnamon cigarette that Professor Snape had offered him. They were in what Snape had called 'The Red Chamber', the walls and furniture and floor all being blood red in colour. There were all the other sixth and seventh year Slytherins as well, getting very much intoxicated and talking dirty. Montague was just opening the door to let Finch-Fletchley and Hopkins back in.
"So, Professor…" Draco drawled, "How did it go with Hagrid?"
Snape looked sour. "He wasn't too happy about my request, but when I told him I promised Potter…"
"You promised Potter?"
Snape coughed. "Well, he heard us in the Great Hall earlier today and… well… I thought Hagrid might agree if… And now…"
"You've invited Potter here?" Draco asked, his voice casual and slightly indignant, but in truth he would've liked to hug his head of house.
"I had to," grunted Severus, "Otherwise Hagrid would never trust me again. I need Potter to tell him that he's been here… enjoying these refreshments with us."
"And did you include Weasel and Granger into that invitation, too, professor?" asked Warrington, scowling. "I wouldn't want…"
"Don't be foolish, Carlos, of course I didn't!" the professor snarled.
It could've been a real place for someone to wonder how the death-scary Professor Snape was talking to his students like being equal with them, but then again nobody knew that Severus really enjoyed their company. Especially Malfoy, although being a son of a Death Eater, was a very witty talking companion, and Severus secretly hoped he would also get some information about Voldemort from the boy. Not to mention that he tried to find a way to persuade young Draco to the Light side, since he was so clever a student.
"I think there was a knock on the door," giggled Blaise, half sprawled in Draco's lap. "Do you think it's Harry?"
"Might be," Severus drawled. "Montague, could you perhaps…?"
"Sure, I'm the doorman here," Rodriquez grinned, and rose up to open the door, leaving the pouting Justin Etre behind on the couch.
Draco raised a snifter on his lips and took a draft. Blaise nestled her head against his shoulder, playing with his buttons and giggling some nonsense.
"Zabini, you're too drunk," Draco smiled and smoothed her hair. "Come on, let's make room for Potter, shall we?"
Harry found the Red Chamber rather easily. It was halfway down the stairs to the bar, where another staircase led to his left, disappearing in shadows. There was nothing interesting to see in that particular gangway, and it was therefore totally deserted. There were only several locked doors, and one of them was painted burgundy red.
"This must be it," Harry mused.
He hesitated, however, when he didn't hear any voices coming from the other side of the door.
"Must be having a Silencing Charm on it," he decided, and knocked.
Not long after, Rodriquez Montague emerged in front of him.
"Hey, Potter!" he greeted, "Joining our party again?"
"Um… I suppose so?" Harry grinned.
"Well don't stand there, come in!"
Montague pulled Harry from the collar, and he entered a room that was completely red, down to the very last candlestick that was floating in the air. He saw Draco immediately, half lying on a sofa like a lazy cat, Blaise Zabini by his side.
"Mr. Potter, I see you've managed to get rid of your… friends."
Harry jumped slightly when hearing Professor Snape's voice.
"Um, yes… They're… busy elsewhere."
Snape gave him what could be described a lopsided, wry grin.
"Harry!" Blaise laughed, "Come and sit with us!"
Draco quenched his cigarette and conjured up an empty snifter. Snape filled it up with Hagrid's booze.
"Here," Draco gave the drink to Harry as he approached. "Your giant friend sends his greetings."
Harry narrowed his eyes and smiled. "Must be really good stuff, taken that half of you Slytherins are already under the tables."
"Mr. Potter, do take a seat," instructed Professor Snape.
"Gladly," Harry smirked and dropped himself on the other side of Draco. Instantly, he felt an arm slither around his waist.
Snape looked at them with a befuddled expression on his face.
"So… What do you think?" asked Draco, gesturing at Harry's drink.
Harry took a sip and grimaced. "Warrington's got a better taste, I must say."
Snape continued staring at them perplexed. "I didn't know you two were… friends."
Only now Harry realised the situation wholly, and moved to get away from Draco. Draco, however, wouldn't let him go.
"You see, Professor… We have a truce."
"Ah," Snape raised his chin, eyeing them sceptically. "A truce."
Harry felt his cheeks flush, and took another sip from his glass. "Yes, a truce," he muttered.
Blaise giggled mercilessly and Draco nudged her with his elbow.
The time seemed to flow rather comfortably forwards in the Red Chamber. Harry found enjoying himself immensely, and watching Professor Snape drink himself totally shitfaced was truly an amusing experience. After two hours, the Professor even had the nerve to praise Harry of his fighting skills against the Dark Lord, which obviously made many of the Slytherins look at him angrily. However, nobody took anything too seriously that night, and when it was the time to pour the last drops from Hagrid's bottles, they all were ready to continue the party outside the Red Chamber.
"Let's go join the big party!" Crabbe shouted, and everybody agreed.
They left the room and Snape, who was snoring in his chair.
Later in the evening, there was a loud argument about what game would entertain the students for last nightly hours. The argument was taking place among some Hufflepuff and Slytherin students, whereas the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were following its process with great interest, except for Ron and Hermione, who were eating one another.
"Truth or Dare!"
"Dementor's Kiss!"
"Truth or Dare!"
"Why not chess?"
"Nah, that's boring… Striptease poker!"
"No! We want Dementor's Kiss!"
"Fuck that! Truth or Dare's more fun and challenging!"
"Fuck yourself! Dementor's Kiss is a wizard game, not some stupid fucking Muggle…"
"Shut the fuck up everyone, will you? If you want to play Dementor's, then do it with Bole and Baddock and Davies –and in another chamber! Nobody wants your Slytherin games, in case you haven't noticed, Warrington!"
"I didn't ask for your opinion, McMillan, fuck off. Fucking Hufflepuff trash…"
"I don't need to hear this!"
"I don't want you to stay here and hear this! Bugger off!"
"You bugger off with your Veritaserum pills, you fucking drug addict, Warrington!"
"I'm warning you, Ernie McMillan…"
"SHUT UP, BOTH OF YOU! FUCK!"
Draco interrupted the noisy quarrel with a thunderous roar.
"Interesting usage of the word 'fuck'. It was mentioned eight times," muttered Hermione, interrupting the kiss with Ron. "Fucking hell."
Harry raised his brows and gazed at Hermione. Had she just sworn, as well?
Draco stormed at the Slytherins, glared at the Hufflepuffs and ignored all the others. He really didn't want to play the Dementor's Kiss, for some clearly obvious reasons. He didn't want to put either himself or Harry into a difficult situation.
"The winners of the day may decide. Is that okay with everyone? Not that I particularly care, though… We will decide it anyway."
Ernie McMillan moped but otherwise nobody protested.
"Blaise?" Draco asked.
"I want Dementor's Kiss."
"Granger?"
"Truth or Dare," Hermione said, slightly amazed that Draco hadn't called her a Mudblood.
"Potter?"
"Dementor's Kiss."
Draco raised his eyebrow at this, but turned then to Ginny Weasley.
"Weasley?"
Ginny flinched with fright but was able to stammer, "Truth or Dare."
"Alright," Draco smiled, "And I for one would like to know what the hell this famous Truth or Dare game is. So I say we play Truth or Dare."
"That's not fair!" Blaise huffed. "We didn't ask Professor Snape yet!"
"Well, if you want to and ask him, feel free to do so," Draco scowled. "But I think he's rather passed out."
Blaise sighed with defeat. "Alright. You win."
"Of course I win," Draco smiled.
The game Truth or Dare started with a great fuss. First, there seemed to be real trouble in forming a decent circle of students. Next, they were all so drunk that and noisy that the instructions had to be given seven times. But at last they were all composed, Neville sportingly agreeing to give his wand for the purpose. It was lit with a lumos spell, and the first one who rolled it around the in the centre of the crowd was Neville himself.
The beams landed on Zacharias Smith, who chose dare and was forced to admit he had a crush on Hannah Abbot. Then it was Michael Corner's turn, and he chose dare, having to sing a love song to Cho Chang with his terrible voice. The game started mild, continued wild, and threatened to end catastrophically feral.
The beams finally landed on Ginny Weasley.
"Kiss the person you feel most sexually attracted right now, Ginny," Colin Creevey grinned.
"I… I…"
"Come on, do it!" Luna Lovegood encouraged. "It can't be that bad. Just a little kiss."
Ginny's eyes travelled at Hermione, looking scared. Hermione swallowed, realizing the situation fully.
"Um, I could choose the truth…"
"Then I ask you to tell us who it is," Colin was sly.
Ginny and Hermione exchanged nervous glances.
"Alright," Ginny sighed. She crawled across the circle to Hermione and gave her a peck on the lips. Then she hastily crawled back to her original spot, cheeks as red as ripe apples.
Wild whistles and shocked yells made the chamber very noisy. Colin and all the other fifth year boys were nearly jumping out of their pants whereas the fifth year girls were too shocked to even stammer a sensible word of dismay. Ron looked back and forth between Hermione and Ginny, clearly confused beyond belief, opening his mouth as if to say something but nothing came out.
The only ones who did not look surprised were the nervously smiling Hermione, Harry and Draco.
"Wow… Wish I had taken my camera with me!" Colin moaned.
"This is… What is this?" Ron finally choked out. "Mione…? Ginny?"
Wanting the situation to pass quickly, Ginny raised her wand and rotated Neville's one with a little spell. The lumos beams landed on Draco Malfoy.
It was now proven that even a person with more flush on her cheeks than naturally even possible, could go from that state to ice pale in just two and half seconds. Ginny only stared in shock at the elder Slytherin boy.
"Are you going to ask me or not, Weasley?" Draco looked superior and a bit annoyed.
"T-truth or d-dare, Malfoy," the young redhead stammered.
"Dare."
Ginny looked like she was going to die. Luckily enough, Harry then crept to her and held out a bottle in front of her nose.
"Take a dram, it won't kill you," he said, soothingly. "And remember to ask him to do something really embarrassing. You can't break the positive direction to where this game is going by giving a boring 'hug-the-prettiest-girl-in-the-room' task."
Ginny took a long gulp of Harry's bottle, coughing mercilessly right afterwards. Harry grinned, having already gotten used to Warrington's dragon blood mixtures.
"Not battery acid, if that's what you think you took," Harry sniggered. "Now… Ask him to do something really discomforting."
Ginny seemed to have gained new strength from Harry's little pep talk and now eyed the gorgeous Slytherin hungrily.
"Show us what kind of underwear you're wearing, Malfoy."
"What?" Draco was genuinely surprised that the youngest Weasley could come up with such a suggestion. "Truth!"
"No! You won't take a truth!" squealed Lavender, and received encouraging cheers from at least half of the other girls in the room.
"Truth, I said."
"Then… Who's the one you've been shagging of late?"
"Dare!"
"Can you decide already, Draco?" Blaise sniggered, still very light-headed. Although she could well understand that Draco didn't want to bang out loud in front of everybody that he's been madly fucking Harry the Saint Potter during this last week.
"I choose dare. But I can't actually do the task, because I'm wearing nothing underneath right now," Draco grinned at Ginny, who went again from pale to red.
"Oh," she muttered. "Well… um… Going commando is really… eh… distracting, really… um… Too much information right now. Well, what do you usually wear?"
"Black," Harry replied for Draco.
Everybody's eyes turned to look at the Gryffindor in pure stupefaction.
"How would you know, Harry?" Neville squeaked.
Harry's grin was so wide it reached his ears, especially seeing Draco looking just like the rest of the group.
"I once got his laundry by accident. The house elves had mixed the packages. I got a clean set of grey Malfoy robes, two pairs of Armani Wizard trousers and five pairs of black boxers."
"What? When? What did you do with my Armani trousers?" Draco whinged, waking up from his trance.
Harry chuckled. "It was in the beginning of this school year. And I'm not telling you what I did with your clothes."
Draco looked murderous. "They were my best set of robes and trousers."
"You didn't even notice they were missing!" Harry protested.
"Did too!"
"Alright, let's go on with the show…" Pansy tittered and poked Draco in the ribs. "Roll the wand, babe."
Draco turned his mind back to the game, however glaring at Harry playfully. His lumos beams landed on Lavender Brown.
Lavender squealed with anticipation. "Dare! Dare!"
Draco raised an elegant brow. "Dare?"
"Yes! Dare!" Lavender squeaked.
"Alright… You could always dance for us, couldn't you? Exotic. No need to lighten your clothing this time, though… Just entertain us with your dancing skills."
And the game went on another half an hour, many of the students getting embarrassed, and even more getting highly intoxicated. At one point, Harry retreated from the circle, beginning to walk around everyone, an amused expression on his face. He was well aware that Draco's eyes followed him almost constantly, and he couldn't wait for a chance to jump the Slytherin and kiss him senseless.
"Have you ever kissed a boy, Ron? And if you have… Who and when was it?" Justin Ficnh-Fletchley asked when he had rolled his wand successfully towards Ron.
Ron's cheeks went scarlet and his eyes widened.
Harry stopped his walking and blanched.
"Um… yeah, I have."
"Who?" Justin inquired, very eagerly.
"Um… Harry."
The uproar after this announcement was overwhelming. Harry held his breath, his eyes drifting to the gleaming grey ones that stared at him from the other side of the room. They reflected no more of their usual, teasing glow, but darkness… so much darkness… Harry felt his heart stop beating.
"When?" Justin continued, not letting the flushed Ron out of the hook so easily.
"Y-yesterday evening," Ron muttered. He cast nervous glances at both Hermione and Harry.
"But you were supposed to date Hermione, weren't you?" asked Colin, "I didn't know you were gay…"
"I'm NOT GAY!" Ron shouted, "I'm still with Hermione… at least I hope so."
He looked at Hermione, who smiled weakly back, clearly flustered, knowing not what else to do.
"Not that there's… anything wrong with being gay, though," Ron added, with a significant glance at Harry.
But Harry didn't see this –he didn't see anything but those grey, bright eyes that only few minutes ago had adored him, but were now rapidly building walls around their owner.
"I think I'm feeling sick," Draco grimaced, and rose to his feet. "Really… sick…"
Everybody watched him go through a velvet curtain, behind which was a balcony. Blaise leapt up rapidly and ran after him.
"Well… not interested what he thinks, anyways," Ron muttered, though falling silent when seeing how weirdly many of the players were now watching Harry.
"I think…" said Harry, averting his eyes from Montague and Etre's, "That I'm feeling a bit sick, too."
"Okay, the show must go on!" shouted Pansy, wanting the attention back to the game, and not to Harry or Draco. "Weasley, it's your turn to roll the wand!"
"Yeah, roll it, Weasley!" yelled Mary-Ann, and the Slytherin boys rioted approvingly.
Awkwardly, Ron returned to the game and made Neville's wand spin.
Harry silently retreated towards the balcony. The music in the room was rather distracting, as was the dim lightning, and he was happy to find himself going through the velvety curtain unnoticed. He found Draco smoking another cigarette, leaning his elbows to the balcony railing, having Blaise's arm around his waist. They were talking silently.
"Hey," Harry said, shifting nervously his weight from toes to heels.
Blaise turned around, glaring at Harry. She whispered something again to Draco and then cast a Silencing Charm around them.
"Just… make it quick," she advised Harry. "He's not in a talking mood."
And she went back inside.
"Draco…" Harry began, but fell silent when Draco whirled around, giving Harry a look of pure hatred.
"Don't dare address me, Potter! You filthy half-blood whore!"
Harry was hurt but tried to hide it. "Look, Draco, it's not what it sounded like… not at all…"
"I don't give a flying fuck about your wan explanations, Potter!" Draco spat, "You're polluted! You're… oh, LORD! How could you EVER let a WEASLEY touch you? Huh! I'm thoroughly DISGUSTED! I won't lay a finger on filth like you EVER again!"
"What you don't understand that I wasn't kissing Ron out of the sheer pleasure of it, I was trying to teach him how…"
"Out of the sheer pleasure of it! Really, Potter, I could've lived without knowing THAT little piece of mental image!" Draco's eyes were flaming cold acid. "Sheer pleasure, kissing a WEASLEY, for Morgan's sake!"
"Shut up and listen, will you!" Harry cried. "He's a very lousy kisser and I just thought I might show him…"
"You did show him, alright!" Draco rampaged. "And how did he like it? I bet he loved it."
"Draco, for the last time…"
"Go sod yourself, will you, fucking harlot!"
"Who are you calling a harlot, Malfoy?" Harry yelled, finally temper flaring. "Being the famous walking hard-on of the school already, having shagged everybody and everything that moves, I should say 'tis YOU who's the whore here!"
"Oh! Oh! This is just GREAT! Now I'M the whore! Oh, yes, all blame on me, just like always before!" Draco shouted. "Well, for your information, you little minx, from this on, I'm whoring WITHOUT YOU in my bed!"
"I never even was in you bed, now was I?" Harry seethed, "You never got me there, now did you?"
Draco was very pale with anger, his mien however showed no real expression of fury. "Luckily enough, I avoided having you there."
Harry flinched at the cold smoothness of those words, said in a silken manner. "You never cared about me, did you, Malfoy?" he asked.
"Of course not," Draco replied, however fighting hot tears from streaming down his cheeks. "What did you think, then? That I would fall in your trap, just because you had the nerve to lie to me that you loved me."
Harry was feeling like the whole world was shattering from around him. "It… It wasn't a lie."
"Don't you even start anymore, Potter," Draco hissed. "You don't love me. I will not follow you. You cannot change me. You cannot make me come to the Light side."
"I never even tried, Malfoy."
They were silent for a long moment, eyeing each other warily, until Draco moved towards the curtains that led inside.
"So, this is it?" Harry cried after him.
"This is it," Draco replied, without looking back.
"You just can't leave me like this!" shouted Harry, "You fucking idiot, why won't you believe that I didn't mean anything with… RON doesn't mean ANYTHING to me!"
"Nor do I," Draco glanced over his shoulder and sharpened his gaze. "Nobody really matters to you, do they, Potter?"
And he stepped through the velvet, out of the Silencing Charm bubble, and into the party house.
Harry stayed immovable, watching the canvas settle down to heavy pleats after Draco was gone.
…TBC…
A/N: I'm finding it rather difficult to write this, as you might've noticed… Next chapter's full of misery, though, which I think I can manage tolerably. Everyone in favour of a long fight, raise your hands in the air… and those who are not, just scowl.