Author's Note: Thank you to everybody who's been following this story and reviewing! (I've been updating on my Tumblr every time I write a new chapter, so hopefully some of you are still here) Harry's POV.

Chapter 15

Harry looked around the transformed Slytherin common room and whistled quietly—Nott and Blaise had actually gone all out with this. The emerald-silver furniture and tapestries had been replaced with items of all House colours, and the couches and chairs had been moved to a corner next to the fireplace to make room for a makeshift dance floor in the middle. Harry noticed that there was even tables of foods and drinks lined up against the wall. It was festive, yet, tasteful—very Slytherin-esque. The decorations must have taken ages to set up... of course, they'd not been allowed into the common room all afternoon (this had driven Malfoy insane with annoyance) and Harry hadn't been able to drop off his books or change after his strenuous Friday classes, but it was definitely worth it seeing it all now. Harry whistled again. Wow.

Since everyone was to move back to their original dorms soon, the Eighth Years had decided to make an event of it—and the notorious Slytherin party boys had been quick to volunteer their common room. Harry took one more look around and smiled at a passing Ravenclaw. It was a fantastic idea. All of the students had made surprising new acquaintances and alliances and it was rather nice to see it all here in front of him, like a grand prize, a beautiful beginning, something to celebrate now and something to look forward to in the future. Real friendships. Harry would never have guessed it a few months ago, but he was starting to find peace in his classmates again.

"Oi, Harry!"

Harry turned around. Blaise was coming towards him, waving a drink in one hand. Harry waved back at him.

"Smashing, isn't it?" Blaise remarked, glancing about to admire his own work.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "You and Nott have done an amazing job."

"Psh. Nott did absolutely nothing," Blaise said, wrinkling his nose. "In fact, he spent half the time flirting with Daphne for free whiskey."

Harry snorted. "Sure."

Blaise smiled now. "I reckon it's the best I've planned yet. Don't you?"

"I wouldn't know, I've never been to one of your parties before," Harry reminded him.

"Oh, that's right." Blaise smirked and began to walk away to greet another crowd of people. "You used to be a whingy Gryffindor."

Harry frowned. "Hey! I still am!" he yelled after the boy. He frowned again. Wait. "And I'm not whingy!"

Someone scoffed behind him. "That's debatable, Potter."

Harry whirled around again. This time it was Malfoy, who was eyeing him with the same self-important smirk Harry had seen only moments before on the other one. Harry resisted the urge to snort. Slytherins. "That's rich, coming from you," he retorted, crossing his arms.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Why ever would you say that?"

"Oh, I don't know," Harry remarked sarcastically. "Perhaps because I was the one forced to sit through hours of you whinging about being banned from the common room in the library today. Or have you forgotten?"

Malfoy sniffed. "You could've left if you wanted to."

"You said you would hex me if I tried to escape," Harry pointed out.

Malfoy tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Hm. I don't recall that."

Harry resisted the urge to smile. "Of course you don't, prat."

Malfoy grinned and winked at him before promptly whirling around to talk to Nott, and Harry let out a relieved sigh. Merlin's pants, Malfoy looked good tonight, possibly the best Harry had ever seen him—and that was saying something, considering that Harry had shared the washroom with Malfoy plenty of times. The boy was positively poisonous with his slicked hair and glowing skin and bright eyes... Harry gulped and walked away from the growing crowd, opting make himself comfortable on a secluded chair beside the fireplace instead. He'd already done his mingling, and besides, Harry needed time to take a breath and not think about blonds or Slytherins or washrooms or blond Slytherins in washrooms. Gods.

Harry observed the room now; it was filled with students to the brim, all of them celebrating and lamenting the idea of going back to their old dorms. It really was unfortunate... Even though it had only been a temporary thing, the new living situation had done a lot for House Unity. As much as he appreciated them, Harry knew that the visiting permissions of other common rooms were definitely not enough anymore. Looking around still, Harry watched as Nott and Ginny snogged fiercely and Neville threw an arm around Luna, smiling at his friends' antics. In another corner of the room, Ron and Pansy were exchanging drinks and bickering amicably. All was well, it seemed, and all because of a little House movement... Who knew what the move back might bring to the students.

However, Harry himself wasn't saying goodbye to his new quarters—he was still staying in the Slytherin dorms. At least, half of the time. He and Malfoy had gone to address the issue of Rebecca to Snape (who still wasn't looking Harry in the eye after… the incident), and the professor had agreed to let them continue to live together, under the conditions that they'd have to switch back and forth from Slytherin and Gryffindor each week. Malfoy had made a bit of noise about that, but Harry personally thought that this idea was fair, if not preferable. As much as he'd grown to like Slytherin dorms, he missed his own bed in Gryffindor—even though he'd have to endure the incessant teasing of his own Housemates about the bed-sharing with Malfoy. It was a small price to pay.

"Harry! There you are."

Harry looked up. Hermione was standing in front of him, blocking the warmth from the fireplace. He gestured for her to sit across from him.

"Hi. Are you looking for Ron?"

Hermione sat. "No, I've already seen him. What are you doing?"

"Sitting."

"Avoiding?"

Harry glared at her. "No, just sitting."

Hermione gave him a knowing grin. "Sure, Harry," she said. "Have you talked to Malfoy lately?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"For Merlin's sake, Hermione, it's not as if I'm going to have a chat with him about it," Harry said, shaking his head. "I've barely come to terms with it as it is."

Hermione shrugged. "I was just curious, seeing as you two constantly flirt with each other..."

"Flirt?" Harry wrinkled his nose at the word. "I do not flirt."

"Correction: you do not flirt well," Hermione remarked, with a small smile. Harry scowled at her. She ignored him. "Besides, Harry, don't you think that Malfoy ought to know?"

"I ought to know what?"

Harry glanced up sharply to find Malfoy standing above them with a drink in his hand and one eyebrow raised. Harry shot Hermione a harsh look and the girl nodded in response. "I've got to find Seamus and Dean," she insisted, ignoring Malfoy's inquiry completely. "God knows what they're planning to do in Slytherin territory." She got up and scurried away without another word. Malfoy took to staring at Harry instead, and Harry cleared his throat nervously.

"Would you sit down?" he asked.

Malfoy looked as if he wanted to push the question for a moment, but he smirked instead. "I would, Potter, but you're in my seat." He placed himself on one of the arms of the chair and looked down at Harry again. "You know that, obviously."

Harry grinned. "Of course, but it's not entirely unheard of to sit in a different spot once in awhile, Malfoy. Perhaps you could try it."

"Perhaps." Malfoy smirked again and slid off the armchair right into Harry's lap. "However, it's not likely that I will."

Harry gasped with an 'oomph' as Malfoy pressed his full weight onto him. "Are you serious right now?" Harry asked, glaring at his friend.

Malfoy squirmed a bit, sprawling out with his head resting on one chair arm and his legs going over the other. The rest of him covered Harry's entire lap. Malfoy smiled. "Yes, I'm absolutely serious," he assured. "This is a compromise."

Harry pretended to grumble. "Not for my legs!" he complained, childishly pushing at Malfoy's side. "Dear gods, I think they're becoming numb."

"Oh hush up, you baby," Malfoy snapped. "I'm not heavy."

"Not heavy? You're like a fucking brick!"

"Oh yeah? And you think that your bony legs are any more comfortable?"

"More comfortable than your bony arse!"

"It's not bony, it's refined," Malfoy said lightly, taking a sip of his drink and sighing. Not even one snide retort... the Slytherin was in a ridiculously amicable mood at the moment. Probably tipsy already, Harry thought. He grabbed the cup from Malfoy's hand and downed it in one gulp. Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

"You're going to have to get me another one, you know," the boy pointed out.

Harry shrugged. "Get off of me and I'll get us both some."

Malfoy smirked lazily at him. "Nah. I'm actually good," he mused. "Besides, I don't think that you could handle another drink, Potter. Heard you were a lightweight."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "I am not."

"Don't get your knickers in a bunch, sweetheart," Malfoy said, smirking again. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. Some of us just don't have the stamina. That's okay."

Harry's cheeks went hot. "I have plenty of stamina, Malfoy."

The Slytherin sat up abruptly and leaned in so close to Harry that their noses were almost touching. Harry went still. "Is that so?" Malfoy breathed, his eyes flicking down to Harry's mouth briefly before seizing his gaze again. The silver flecks flashed with sly mischief and Harry felt a familiar discomfort forming his lower area. He gulped hard. Don't think about it, don't think about it, he's on your lap, he'll feel it, think about McGonagall and Snape, yeah, and huge spiders, and unicorn blood and Skele-gro and oh gods it's not fucking working—

Malfoy didn't seem to notice his distress. He was still smirking, his lips twisted into that familiar expression... but oh, how would it feel to have those lips on him...? And his hands... and his bony, refined arse... Fuck! Harry's eyes widened and he felt his palms go clammy. He needed to get out of here before Malfoy became aware of his problem. "Um, er, I've got to… um, I have… I need to go get…" Oh gods, it was getting worse! Harry stood quickly, practically hurling Malfoy off of his lap. "Oh, er, sorry, I've—oh, shit—"

Harry turned on his heels and disappeared into the crowd of people dancing, his face still burning with the intensity of a thousand suns. Oh gods, no! He'd gotten hard—with Draco Malfoy sitting on his lap! Had he felt it? Did he know? Harry grabbed a glass of something from a nearby table, hoping that it was alcohol. At this point, he needed it, a lot of it, if he wanted to forget. And Merlin, did he ever. Even if Malfoy had somehow become oblivious to the monster erection Harry had going for him, the Slytherin would still be furious that Harry had unceremoniously ditched him without explanation. In the words of Malfoy, nobody ditches a Malfoy and gets away with it. Harry sighed. He was in trouble.

With another quick glance around, Harry fled from the drinks table, not wishing to get caught by any of his classmates—he still had a raging problem to take care of. Harry didn't stop until he'd reached the boys' dorms and pulled the familiar curtain of his (and Malfoy's) bed shut. Relief! Harry sighed and curled up on his side, letting his heartbeat slow down back to normal. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed his problem to solve itself. Go away! Go away! There was absolutely no way that he'd risk going into the washrooms and getting caught wanking to the thought of another boy sitting on his lap. Hell no. He'd wait it out. Harry bit his lip and reached out for Rebecca, who was lying in a bundle next to him, and held her close. Fuck hormones.

~x~

It had been a couple of hours since Harry had excused himself to the dorm, and even though it was nearly 2AM, none of the boys had come up to bed yet. Curious, Harry slid out of bed and left the room, sneaking down the stairs to see what was going on. Typically, House parties didn't last longer than a few hours—but then again, Harry had no idea about Slytherin House parties. Still, what could they possibly be doing now? Surely, the alcohol was long gone. He peered into the large common room.

There weren't many people left. Some unfortunate students had passed out on the floor, and some were snogging in corners, but other than that, there were little signs of the remaining party. Hm. Harry let his gaze wander over to the couches by the fire. He raised his brows in surprise. Hermione, Blaise, Ron, Nott, Pansy, Neville and Malfoy were all sitting in a circle, appearing to be playing a game of some sort. Harry began to back up the stairs slowly. Shit, maybe if he just turned around and—

"Harry!" Hermione's voice called out to him. She was waving at him as if she'd just noticed his presence. Damn it. "You're here!"

Ron beckoned him over. "Hey, mate," he greeted. "Come join us."

"I'm kind of tired, actually," Harry mused. "I think that I'm just going to head off to bed."

"Nonsense," Blaise piped up. "You've been up there all night. Live a little, Harry."

Harry sighed. Arguing with Blaise would do him no good; the boy would just end up dragging Harry over anyways. "Fine," he said tiredly, walking over and avoiding Malfoy's probing gaze as he placed himself between Pansy and Hermione. "What are you all doing?"

Pansy grinned at him. "You'll see," she chirped. "First, everybody place their hands on the table." After they'd all done so, she winked at Harry and appraised everyone around the table with a satisfied smile. "We're about to play Truth or Dare, bitches."

Everybody groaned except for Blaise, who beamed at Pansy with pride. Obviously, the two had been in cohorts. Pansy went on. "Here are the rules," she said. "After you pick Truth or Dare, you cannot back out of it. If it's a Truth, you will only have to answer the person who initiated the question given to you... And if it's a Dare, you must do it before anybody else can take a turn, or the game will not end. We'll sit here all night if we have to."

"That's not fair," Ron argued now, frowning. "You're all Slytherins. You'll probably dare us to do something awful or painful or..."

Pansy smirked. "Yeah, sucks for you, Weasley," she teased. "I put a spell on the table you all just touched." There were spluttered protests around the group. "Shut up," she snapped now. "I am the only one who can end the game seeing as you're all bound under my magic. Does everybody understand?"

Harry bit his lip and chanced a peek at Malfoy; the other boy glanced towards him at the same time with an odd expression on his face. Their eyes met briefly before Harry averted his. Was this really a good idea? What if something happened and Harry was forced to reveal his feelings in front of everybody? His stomach lurched.

"Um, Pansy—"

"What, Potter?"

"I—" Harry shook his head. "I don't want to play."

"Me neither," Malfoy interjected, before Pansy could respond. "I'm exhausted. Could you spell us out?"

Pansy grinned and waggled a manicured finger at them. "Nope, sorry, boys. I told you, you're magically bound to this game. Until I say you can leave, you won't be going anywhere." Harry scowled and Malfoy looked pained. Pansy smiled slowly. "Besides, why wouldn't you want to play? Have either of you got something to hide?"

Malfoy paled significantly. "No."

Harry glanced at him and shook his head in agreement. Oh Merlin.

"Good, then let's play," Pansy said cheerfully. "I'll go first. Longbottom, truth or dare?"

Harry saw Neville's Adam's apple bob up and down. "Um, truth?" Neville squeaked.

Pansy smirked. "How far have you gone with Lovegood?"

Neville coloured immediately and Ron glared at the smirking girl, standing up for his friend. "You can't ask him that!" Ron exclaimed. "That's private!"

Pansy shrugged. "It's Truth or Dare, I can ask him whatever I want," she reminded him. "Answer the question, Longbottom."

"I've kissed her," Neville mumbled, still red.

"Where?" Nott asked tauntingly.

Ron balked. "Nott!"

"Okay!" Pansy announced. "It's your turn to ask, Longbottom."

Neville surveyed the group. "Hermione. Truth or dare?" he asked.

Hermione looked hesitant. "Truth, I suppose."

"Aw, come on Granger! Be exciting!"

Neville and Hermione both ignored Nott's outburst. The boy thought for a moment before asking. "Um… Do you fancy somebody in this room?"

Harry looked at her and smiled. He already knew the answer, but it would be nice to hear her admit it for once. Hermione bumped his leg and returned the look fondly. "Yes," she confirmed.

Harry sighed and watched her cheeks redden slightly. Of course, being friends with both Ron and Hermione for years had given him rather ample insight on their relationship—in short, they were both mad for each other but neither were brave enough to make a bloody move. Harry let his eyes wander from a confused-looking Ron to a timid Hermione. Merlin, they were both hopelessly thick. Harry glanced around to see the reactions of the others, most were knowing, but some were bewildered, like Ron. Harry's gaze fell on Malfoy last; the boy was glaring at Hermione with unneeded intensity. Harry frowned. What was Malfoy's problem with Hermione? It was really starting to bother him.

Hermione cleared her throat, attracting Harry's attention back to her. "Blaise, truth or dare?" she asked.

The dark haired boy grinned. "Dare," Blaise said, with oozing confidence. "Hit me with your worst, Granger."

Hermione smiled with uncharacteristic slyness at him. "Oh, Zabini, I've been waiting to do just that all year," she answered smoothly. "I dare you to put a Silencing charm on yourself and not take it off until the end of the game, unless you have to answer a truth."

Blaise's coolness broke and he squawked in protest. "What? But I—"

Pansy looked a mix of pleased and impressed with Hermione. "Blaise, do it," she commanded sternly.

Blaise shot a dirty look at both girls and grumbled as he put the charm on himself with sulky moodiness. Harry grinned at him. Hermione had really hit home with that one—if there was one thing that Blaise truly despised, it was having to shut the hell up. This could actually be sort of interesting.

Blaise then motioned at Malfoy, drawing a T and an F in the air with his wand.

Malfoy gulped noisily. "Um… Truth," he murmured.

Blaise smirked at him and started to draw something in the air, but Pansy interrupted him. "No wait, Blaise dear," she said. "Since you are unable to speak, why don't you let Potter ask the question? He'll probably come up with a better one anyhow."

"Hey, isn't there a rule against that?" Ron asked, butting heads with Pansy once more. The girl seemed used to it, though, and ignored him. "Go on, Potter," she urged, smiling at him sweetly and ignoring Blaise's silent protests and Ron's loud ones. "I'm sure that you have a load of questions to ask Draco, hm? Give it a go."

Harry furrowed his brows. Of course, he had lots of things to ask, but he wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to ask them—especially here, in front of all their friends. Besides, Harry didn't want to make the other boy angry. "I don't know," he remarked. "Blaise can do it, I don't have a question in mind."

Malfoy looked relieved for a moment, but Pansy persisted. "No, Potter, it's okay. You can ask him anything."

Harry paused and looked at Hermione. She was giving him the Look of Concern and he suddenly felt a curious rush of sympathy for her. "Well, all right..." he frowned and turned to Malfoy. "What have you got against Hermione?"

There was a small gasp, and Harry realised it had come from Hermione. He glanced at her again and she shook her head. Was it the wrong thing to ask? He had only wanted to stick to subjects that weren't privy to himself... but what if he had unknowingly created some kind of drama? And oh gods, what if Malfoy still hated her for... pureblooded reasons? That sort of thing would be like poison to a 'fun' game like this... In fact, it wouldn't be a game any longer.

Malfoy's face was bright red. "I… I… She's got—and you're always—and I get so—" He was stammering relentlessly now, trying to stop himself from speaking to no avail. The magical bond seemed to be working. He looked as if he were about to burst.

"Spit it out, Malfoy!" Nott smacked the other boy's arm.

Malfoy fixed his gaze at the ground and muttered something unintelligible. Harry strained his ears but didn't catch the statement. "Um, what?" he asked.

Malfoy looked up, and now his expression was burning, flaming fury. Even his normally cool eyes were alight with passion. "I said, I'm fucking jealous of her," he snarled viciously, allowing the others to stare at him in shock. It became so utterly silent that even a falling pin would sound like thunder.

"I… You… What? Why?" Harry was the one stammering now. What was Malfoy trying to say?

Malfoy glared at the floor, the fire seeming to fade from him as the spell took over. "Yes Potter, I, Draco Malfoy, am jealous of Granger," he muttered, clearly still under the influence of the game. "Because anyone with eyes can see that you bloody fucking fancy the shit out of her. And I wish you didn't. I wish you fancied me." Malfoy's mouth formed a mortified 'o'. "Fuck!" he exclaimed.

Harry gaped at him, unable to form coherent words, or any words, for that matter. Malfoy was jealous of Hermione because he thought that Harry fancied her? Harry shook his head. Where the fuck did the dense prat get that idea from? How could he possibly believe that Harry had any feelings for anyone other than him? This was ridiculous. This was madness. This was absolutely, positively, completely... incredible.

Hermione braved the roaring silence and turned to face Harry. "Harry, truth or dare?"

Harry continued to stare at Malfoy, who looked like he was about to cry now. "Dare," he affirmed.

"Tell him," she demanded. "And for godssake, Harry, do it right." Harry smiled at her before standing up and plopping himself down right in front of Malfoy. He tilted the other boy's chin up to properly look at his face. Merlin, Malfoy was so, so beautiful. Vulnerability had never looked so right.

"It's not Hermione I fancy," he said, just loud enough for the other boy to hear him. "It's you, you stubborn, senseless git."

Harry leaned in closer, and closer, and closer, until all he could see was wide, clear grey eyes, and suddenly, he couldn't stop himself...

(Another quick!) Author's Note: HAHA okay I'm sorry, that's a terrible place to leave you hanging, but I'm afraid that's how it's got to be! Also, couldn't help but sneak in the Truth or Dare thing. I'm a total sucker for it.