Title: Birthday Presents

Chapter: One-shot

Warnings: Slash-ness, some detailed kissing.

Pairings: Harry/Draco

A/N: This fic is dedicated and written for (same thing?) Janine. Happy Birthday! This is an addition to your OTHER presents and, no, it's not because I'm too cheap to buy things for you. And this is NOT late, I just timed it to be posted on the day of your party. (/lies)

Anyway, here's a fanfic just for you to suit your HPDM needs. Huzzah!

Note: this is my first HPDM fic. Ever. I'm not a HPDM shipper and I don't write HP fanfics often. If I do, they're so bad that I don't post them. The characters here are OOC and this doesn't really fit in the HP timeline, so I guess it could be AU. But I don't like saying that it is, so I won't.

Also, keep in mind that this was not proof-read. And no, that's not because I waited until the last minute to post this. (/more lies)

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. (Duh.)

Italics - thoughts

It was a beautiful day. Birds were singing. Children were playing in the fields. The atmosphere was that of absolute peace and tranquility. It was truly a beautiful day.

Somewhere else.

Peace was only a thing of the past for the students of Hogwarts School of...well, you know the rest. In a school where abnormality and chaos were common-place, moments of quiet came to be treasured and moments of pandemonium expected. This particular day was no exception to the norm, except maybe in that it was just a bit more chaotic than usual for the two students involved.

The day began, of course, in an uproar (albeit an uproar caused by a single teenage girl, but an uproar nonetheless).

"DRACO!" Pansy Parkinson, in all her pug-nosed glory, came dashing into the Great Hall, squealing madly and scaring some first years in the process.

Grinning like a loon, Pansy flung herself at some unfortunate blonde-topped individual at the Slytherin house table.

Now, Pansy Parkinson was the customary love-sick fan-girl of Hogwarts but such a loud and public display of affection was a bit over the top, even for her. Heads turned all around the Great Hall, attention switching from plates of half eaten breakfast to the minor scene at the Slytherin table.

Pansy's arms were wrapped so tightly around the boy's neck that she could have been a human scarf. That is, a suffocating, heavy, and giggling scarf that was way too enthusiastic about something this early in the morning.

The boy to whom she was so happily clinging was none other than Draco Malfoy, the heir to the Malfoy bloodline, infamous Hogwarts bad boy, ferrety git, and Slytherin extraordinaire. Usually Malfoy was pretty tolerant towards Pansy's affections. One could even dare to say he enjoyed it, the little pimp. However, everyone had their limits and Malfoy was reaching his. No one should be this loud and this happy about anything before breakfast.

Malfoy tried in vain to pull Pansy's arms away from him while still maintaining his cool, arrogant air of indifference. (It was a losing battle.)

"Pansy," he snapped. "What do you think you're doing!"

"Oh, but Draco..." Pansy pulled a grin that would have put the Cheshire Cat to shame and sat next to Malfoy without relinquishing the grip on his neck. "I have a gift for you!"

Malfoy's eyes lit up at this. There was always time for presents. "Go on, then."

Releasing her death grip on Malfoy's neck (much to the boy's relief), Pansy pulled a box seemingly out of nowhere of what looked to be sweets.

"Ta da! I had them sent here last night from a lovely little shop near our villa in Paris. I had to get them special since it's for you."

Her batted eyelashes and blushing complexion went unnoticed by Malfoy who was already preoccupied with inspecting his candy. (Malfoy had a bit of a sweet tooth. Yes, he was a closet candy lover.)

"So, what's the occasion?" he asked, not really caring.

Pansy giggled again. "It's a belated birthday present," she squealed happily. "Happy birthday, Draco!"

It seemed like she was about to throw her arms around him again so Malfoy raised the box of candy between them to protect his abused windpipe. "Thank you," he said as graciously as a Malfoy could. "It's late, but I think it will do." He smirked (sending several Slytherin girls into swooning fits, including Pansy) and stored the package in his school bag.

"Open it now!"

"Yeah!"

"What?" Glancing at the rest of the Hall, Malfoy saw that heads from every table were turned his way. He didn't know where the first shouts came from but there were more. Some people he didn't know were wishing him a Happy Birthday and asking for candy. Malfoy liked the attention but not if it cost him his precious sweets.

He rolled his eyes. Privacy was yet another thing seldom found at Hogwarts. "Mind your own business!"

The show officially over, everyone reluctantly turned back to their food. Harry Potter did the same, though his mind was still fixed on the earlier scene.

Across from him Hermione was giving her opinions on the Slytherin's behavior. "Honestly, was all that really necessary? I understand wanting to greet someone on their birthday but she didn't really have to scream it for the world to hear, did she?"

"Yeah," Ron said, already preparing to stuff his mouth until the gift of intelligible speech is lost. "I think even Malfoy was annoyed by it. But I wish shomwow woo gee meh shom khan-nee."

"Oh, Ron. Don't talk with your mouth full."

"Buh ahm hungee," Ron protested around half-chewed sausages and bread.

Harry laughed lightly at his friends' antics. Thinking of the cakes and presents they'd sent him every year, he wondered absently what types of gifts a Malfoy got for his birthday. Images of enchanted skulls and Hand of Glory-esque figures came to mind. Harry shook his head and tried to think of more pleasant things, like the quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin later that morning.

Swaying unsteadily, Harry wobbled his way back to the Gryffindor quidditch team locker room. They had soundly defeated Slytherin and the Gryffindor Common Room was wild with celebration. Fred and George had managed to sneak in some bottles of firewhiskey and, well, maybe the Gryffindors went a little too wild.

Still clad in his muddy, gold and scarlet quidditch attire, Harry had left his school robes in the locker rooms and was just making a quick trip to retrieve it. He swayed again.

Now if only the floor would stop moving.

He let out a small cry of triumph as he finally found the elusive locker room entrance. It seemed like a longer walk than usual and... Were those gargoyles always there? Oh well, must be my imagination...

Clumsily pushing the door open, Harry ambled into the room and was surprised to find that he was blind.

"Huh?" he said stupidly and felt for his glasses. Had he been a little more lucid he would have realized that a blind person does not see in white. Wiping his glasses clean of fog with his fingers, Harry found that he could see again and that the room was full of steam.

Harry blinked. His brain slowly realized two things through the haze of inebriation. One, that someone was using the showers. And two, all his teammates were still up in the Common Room.

He looked around the room and blinked again. Oh well... His moment of clarity over, he wobbled around looking for his robes, even going as far as crouching down to look under the benches. To his surprise, they weren't there. He decided to check under the benches again.

"Potter! What the hell are you doing in here?"

Turning around in surprise, Harry groggily noted that a dripping wet, shirt-less Draco Malfoy was standing over him and wearing his trade-mark, possibly copyrighted Malfoy Sneer. Out of reflex, Harry glared.

"What're you doin' here?" he slurred accusingly.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow and adjusted the towel slung over his shoulders. "So it is true. You really are brain damaged, Potter." When he got a blank starein response, he added, "This is Slytherin territory, you idiot."

Harry then had his revelation. This isn't the Gryffindor locker room!

Apparently he had voiced this realization aloud because Malfoy laughed and said, "Are you seriously that thick, Potter? I wonder what everyone will say when they hear that their Golden Boy snuck into the Slytherin lockers. And while I was showering! I knew you were a little touched in the head, but I didn't think you were that twisted." He laughed again and Harry got to his feet.

"Hey, Malfoy..." Harry began but couldn't think of anything insulting to say. A pause. "What're you doin' here?"

Malfoy frowned. It was no fun humiliating someone when they were too thick to be embarrassed. At least he could still get back at him for the Quidditch game earlier by reporting Potter's trespassing and apparent smuggling of alcohol. He smirked his not-as-famed-as-the-sneer-but-still-pretty-famous Malfoy Smirk.

Harry continued to stare at him, trying to put together two and two. Unfortunately, he couldn't figure out if two was two or if two was one and the other two was four and... Harry shook his head. He was never any good at math anyway.

Just then he remembered something from earlier that morning. "Hey, Malfoy," he said again, this time struggling with the memory. "Iss..is today your biiiiirthday?"

"What?" Malfoy looked at the other boy strangely. "What are you on about, Potter?"

"I was jus' wond'rin'..." Harry sauntered up to his rival. Malfoy took a few unconscious steps backwards and felt his back bump the stone wall.

"Potter! What do you think you're doing, you bloody moron!" Malfoy's eyes darted to his discarded cloak on the opposite side of the room where his wand was inconveniently located. All the other Slytherins were probably back in their Common Room by now. He was alone with a drunken enemy and still quite exhausted from the match. "I'm warning you, Potter!"

Harry lazily drew his own wand and closed the distance between them. Malfoy was now completely backed against the wall but still managed to lift his chin in defiance.

"This is your last warning, Potter. Get away from me now."

Harry smirked. He placed his hands on either side of Malfoy's head, wand still loosely held in his right fist. "I was jus' wond'rin' what you got for your bir'day..." Not really knowing what he was doing and definitely not caring, Harry leaned in a little closer.

Their faces were only inches apart now. Malfoy pressed himself as far against the wall as he could. He could see that the other boy's eyes were glazed over with something that Malfoy couldn't place. He decided that it must be the alcohol as he breathed in the strong scent of firewhisky on Harry's breath. And the way he was smiling... Malfoy's eyes widened in panic as he realized the other's intentions.

"Potter—don't you dare-"

Harry leaned closer until their lips were brushing. Malfoy could feel his cheeks burning. "'Cause..." Harry whispered onto his lips. "I always get great press'nts on my birthday..."

A hot shiver ran down Malfoy's spine as Harry started to move onto his neck. "P-Potter...I'm warning you..." He couldn't continue as he felt Harry's hot breath over his skin. He had to suppress another shiver as Harry started kissing his collar bone.

All traces of sensibility lost, Harry buried his head between the towel and Malfoy's slick neck. The blonde's breathing became heavy as Harry left a trail of burning kisses along his skin. Shit... When he felt Harry sucking at him just below his jaw, he unconsciously tipped his head for him. He was starting to become hot and the steam still filling the room was not helping.

Malfoy felt Harry move along his jaw line and stop just below his ear. Somehow, his hands had ended up entangled in Harry's Quidditch robes and his grip tightened as Harry started nibbling gently on his ear lobe. He didn't even bother to stop the gasp from escaping his lips when he felt Harry's hot breath tickle his skin again.

"What do you want?"

Malfoy cursed the boy for what he was doing to him and finally gave in. He fisted his hands in Harry's robes and with a growl pushed the boy off of him and back onto the wall. Their positions switched, Malfoy pressed himself against the boy and trapped Harry's lips with his own.

The kiss was furious and desperate. Malfoy groaned into Harry's mouth while the other boy tangled his fingers in his wet locks. The intoxicating taste of firewhiskey filled his mouth. His senses were completely overwhelmed with the feeling of Harry's hands, his mouth, his tongue, his heat...

They broke apart, gasping for air. They stared at each other, eyes widened in horror as realization dawned on them.

Malfoy was still pressed up against Harry, hands somewhere up his robes. Harry was panting and flushed, his own hands still in Malfoy's hair. At this moment they shared the same simultaneous thought.

Oh, shit.

As if burned, the two sprang apart. Harry moved as far along the wall as he could and wiped at his lips. Face burning with embarrassment, he turned away from Malfoy and picked up his wand, which lay forgotten on the stone floor. Rational thought had finally found its way to his drunken mind but he wished it would have come a little bit sooner. Strike that. He wished that this was all just a very, very bad dream.

Malfoy had all but ran from Harry. He was now half way across the room, face flushed and hair disheveled. He couldn't believe what had just happened. He kissed a man. He kissed Harry-Bloody-Potter! Hell, he practically ravished him.

Their eyes met, mirroring identical expressions of horror. There was an awkward pause.

Malfoy coughed and broke the silence. "Well—you better not come near Slytherin territory again, you thick freak!"

Harry followed suit and shouted, "What makes you think I want to, you bloody prick!"

"Stupid Gryffindor!"

"Stupid Slytherin!"

Harry "hmph"-ed and stormed out the door, calling over his shoulder dismissively, "Oh, and Happy Birthday." He slammed the door behind him swore never to drink firewhiskey again.

Malfoy glared at the door long after it was shut. He cursed and looked down at the mud on his hands.

He needed another shower.

End

A/N: Happy belated birthday, Janine and Draco! I think Draco's birthday was some time in the summer, but I'm not sure. Anyway, hope you laughed, hope you cried, hope you wet yourself in amusement. Well, not really the last two.

L.A.B. Salita wishes a Happy Birthday to all the September babies!