3

A half hour later, the coffee table was gone and they both lay on the fluffy rug, faces flickering in the firelight.

Draco lounged on his side, composed and graceful. Harry sprawled on his stomach, cheek propped up by a hand. His other hand held a poker, rotating it to cook the marshmallows on the end evenly.

"I wasn't worried. What other house would I have been in? There's no possibility I'd be sorted into Hufflepuff. I have far too much going on in my head for that. And I will proudly affirm that I have none of that so-called Gryffindor bravery, which is, by the way, a polite way of saying noble stupidity, so I didn't have to worry about that. Ravenclaw would have been a very acceptable house for me to have been in if I had been chosen for that, but it was abundantly clear I belonged in Slytherin."

Harry wasn't buying it at all. "I'll bet you had nightmares about it."

"I don't think you understand, Potter. A Malfoy would never have been sorted into an undignified house. It wasn't a possibility."

Harry turned the poker. "Well yeah, that's kind of the point. 'Cause obviously it was possible, but you had to live up to the Malfoy name and all that rubbish."

Draco frowned. "First of all, living up to the Malfoy name is not 'rubbish,' you swine. We are an ancient and dignified house. And second, look at me." He gestured up and down his body with a cocky smirk. "Perfection."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Come on, I'm being serious."

"So am I."

Harry pushed onto an elbow to look at Draco more directly. "I know you care about living up. I know you care a lot. I've seen the way your dad is with you. It's pretty rough."

The amusement dropped from Draco's expression. "For your information, the Malfoys and Blacks are both powerful family lines. My father's political influence is only rivaled by my mother's social influence. I have a long hallway of open doors ahead of me. Other students who actually understand these things consider me quite lucky."

Harry's eyebrows jumped. "Do you consider yourself lucky? I mean, I've only seen you together a few times, but he seems like he rules with an iron fist."

Draco bristled. "If he does, it's only to help me achieve what I want to achieve."

"Right. What you want to achieve."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Harry relented. "Fine, fine. It just always seemed like something I could actually relate to you on. I get what it's like to have people expecting you to be one very specific thing. And if you do anything that doesn't match that thing, they act like you've done something wrong even though you didn't get any say in the expectation in the first place."

Truth was, Harry didn't really have anyone to talk to about it either. Hermione would probably understand, but she'd just tell him he shouldn't worry about what anyone thinks when that was impossible.

And Ron…he could never talk to Ron about it. Ron was a great friend in a lot of ways, but he could already picture Ron scoffing, Right, must be really hard being famous, or I think I'd be okay trying to live up to my family name if it meant I got a vault full of galleons.

Harry pulled the marshmallows in and poked with a finger. They needed a little more time.

Finally, Draco conceded. "Fine, I was possibly a little nervous for the sorting. And maybe my father has, in the past, been a bit intense."

"What about your mum?"

Draco picked at the rug. "Not really. When I was younger, mother was big on manners and how to present to guests, but I mastered that early on. When I got older, she'd ask me what I was interested in or what I thought about things. Father would interrupt and tell her what my opinion was without ever asking me."

Draco looked to Harry for his reaction, but even though Harry wanted to say that Lucius Malfoy was a great big bullying arse, he kept his mouth shut. He nodded to show he was listening.

"Mother let it go for a long time, but when the Dark Lord came back, she changed." A smile tugged at his mouth. "I didn't think she had it in her. She was always so gentle and polite and let my father run things the way he wanted. Now, though, my father tiptoes around her. If he so much as makes a snide remark my way, she'll berate him about how his choices have led to us having to escape from a psychotic megalomaniac and driven us into exile. She also convinced Pansy's parents to follow them, so she's also to thank for them having any friends left to socialize with."

"She sounds pretty kick-arse."

Draco smirked proudly. "She is, turns out."

"So if you were a Hufflepuff…"

"Merlin, no, Potter. Even she couldn't stand the shame of that." But Draco's eyes glinted with amusement.

"I dunno, yellow and black…seems like good colors on you."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Potts, I'm going to leave you chained up in the dungeon and not in a sexy way." His playful tone dropped. "But don't you dare share that with anyone. The Weasel doesn't have any right to—"

Harry cut him off. "I won't. I wouldn't."

Draco relaxed. In fact, he seemed oddly more relaxed than Harry had ever seen him. A few more pillows appeared and, after kicking off his shoes, he flopped back against them with a lazy grin. "You had it easy back then. You didn't even know what the houses were. We could have told you you'd been sorted into the House of Filch you wouldn't have been any the wiser."

Harry scoffed. "Are you kidding? I didn't know it was going to be as simple as a hat on the head! I was just told it was a test. I thought I was the only wizard who had been brought up outside the wizarding world. I thought everyone would know tons of magic already, and I'd get up there, they'd tell me to cast some spell, and I wouldn't know what they were talking about. It seemed too much like a dream back then. One day, I was in my Muggle neighborhood watering the lawn, thinking magic was purely fictional and the next there's a half-giant kicking down the door telling me I'm a famous wizard due at magic school. I was just waiting for someone to realize I belonged back in that Muggle neighborhood."

Draco's nose wrinkled. "I can't imagine not knowing magic existed."

Harry pulled in his poker and plucked off the marshmallows with his fingers, putting together a couple s'mores and sucking the goop off his fingers.

Draco breath hitched as he watched and it took Harry a second to realize what thoughts might be running through his head. Face flushed, Harry pulled his thumb out of his mouth and pushed the plate toward Draco.

Draco frowned, picking up the messy creation. "This looks disgusting. And you got your hands all over it."

"You've sucked on my tongue, I think you can handle my fingers on your food," Harry pointed out. "But you're right. It's every bit as disgusting as fish and chips, which we know you hate and never, ever try to sneak off my plate."

Draco bit off a piece as elegantly as he could, leaving a mess of marshmallow at the corner of his mouth. He melted in pleasure as he chewed. "It's horrible. Never feed this to me again," he said, taking another bite.

Harry kicked his feet in the air as he ate. "So, tell me about Slytherin. Do you all sit around and plot your insults for the coming day or just practice looking superior?"

"Please, we don't have to practice that," Draco scoffed.

"You know, the sorting hat wanted to put me in Slytherin."

Draco turned his whole body to face Harry, searching his face for a sign that he was lying. "There's no way that is true."

"It did. I asked it not to put me there, but if I hadn't, that's where I would have gone."

Draco's mouth quirked, thoughtfully. "You'd be a lot less innocent, that's for sure."

Harry threaded another marshmallow onto the poker. "Think we would have been friends?"

Draco's mouth tightened. "You didn't seem to want to be my friend back then."

Harry twirled the marshmallow in the flames. "Well, you were often quite a big prat."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine, so I was a little shit. Don't I get any credit for personal development? If you haven't noticed, I haven't taunted most of your friends in a long while. Not since—" A dark expression shuttered over Draco's face.

Not since Voldemort had come back.

"I have noticed. That's why I'm here."

Draco shook off whatever gloom had come over him. "If we'd dormed together, you'd inevitably have been wooed by my charms.

Harry snorted. "Doubt it. You'd have made fun of me for everything."

"I make fun of you now."

"But now we have the snogging to make up for it."

"You have to tell my friends that you were almost one of us. They'll lose their minds over that one." He flicked at a nail, not meeting Harry's gaze. "You could come to our common room if you want, sometime."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "Are you hoping to have me killed?"

"Crabbe would defend you in an attack."

Harry snorted. "Crabbe, huh? While you did what exactly?"

"Oh, Potts, if spells start flying, it might seriously mess up my hair. I'll have to stay out of it."

Harry laughed and leaned over to rustle Draco's hair, which had already had Harry's fingers through it plenty of times that evening.

When they settled down, Draco spoke again, his voice the tiniest bit unsure in a way that caught Harry's attention immediately. "You could, though. If you wanted."

Draco wanted Harry to meet his friends. "Okay."

Draco's eyes brightened before his cool expression hid it. "There's a party this Saturday. But keep away from Theo. He will be trying to seduce you at every turn. You're so naïve, I don't trust you to understand what's happening. And, just generally, since you seem unable to comprehend this, if anyone starts touching you a lot, that means they want to fuck you."

Harry's eyes went so wide at the word fuck, Draco threw his head back with laughter.

Draco tugged off his tie and searched for his robe, finding it flung over a chair. "Come on, wannabe Slytherin. Let's see what you would have looked like if you'd made the right decision."

Draco tied the green and silver tie around Harry's neck, and he shrugged on the robe. Once Draco stepped back, Harry asked the room for a mirror and moved to see his reflection.

"Wow, this is bizarre, huh?" Harry turned one way and then the other, trying to get used to it. "Can you imagine if I wore this back to the common room? People would have coronaries right and left!" He turned to Draco. "So, what do you think? Would I make a good Slytherin?"

Harry was taken aback when Draco simply grabbed the green and silver tie and used it to yank Harry's lips to his.

"Guess you like it then," Harry muttered when they broke for air.

Draco made a noise of agreement against his lips.

#

After double potions, Harry was ready for the end of the week. Snape had been in a particularly foul mood and Harry had been partnered with Neville, and had barely thrown up a shield charm to keep their potion from exploding all over the work station he'd just cleaned the night before in detention. Harry found himself much more irritated these days by careless spills and splashes in the classroom.

He was nearly out of the dungeons, talking with Ron about the upcoming quidditch match with Ravenclaw, when a familiar drawl came from behind him. "Forget something, Potter?"

Harry turned, startled Draco was talking with him in public.

If it had been fourth year, this would be when he'd turn, find Draco holding something of his (clearly stolen) and they'd end up threatening each other, exchanging barbs, and eventually hexes.

It struck Harry that Ron and Hermione didn't tense in the same way they would have back then. They'd gotten used to being left out of Draco's insults and Harry was secretly pleased.

Draco passed by, nonchalantly.

Confused, Harry opened his bag. He groaned. "I forgot my potions text." How the hell had he done that?

"Want us to go back with you?" asked Hermione.

"Nah, Snape's already in a bloody mood. I'll probably get stuck with a lecture. Go on. I'll see you in a bit." Harry turned back, pushing through the stream of students trickling from the class.

He hadn't made it far when a hand seized his arm and yanked him into an unused classroom.

His wand was out in an instant, but he found himself pointing it at a grinning Draco, who dangled Harry's potions text from his fingers.

Gaping, Harry shut the door behind him. "How'd you double back?"

Draco dropped his schoolbag to the floor and tossed Harry's book onto a dusty old desk. He pressed himself up against Harry. "Secret passage. Always thought it was a pretty useless one until now."

"People are right outside," Harry whispered.

"I don't fucking care."

And then, his mouth was on Harry's, his warm tongue tangling with his, and Harry didn't care either.

Draco's hands snaked beneath Harry's robes, untucking Harry's shirt. They slid up his back and warmth pooled in Harry's stomach. Harry tried not to make any embarrassing sounds and ran his own hands up Draco's shirt.

Draco pulled away, smiling. His mouth was flushed and red. "You're coming to the party tomorrow night, right?"

Happiness sang through Harry. Normal teenagers got tugged into classrooms and snogged and asked if they were coming to parties. "I said I would, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but I figured you might chicken out at the thought of being surrounded by my drunken housemates."

"But I'll see you get pissed. That's pretty worth it."

Draco waved a dismissive hand. "I am a very classy drunk. I hold my liquor well."

"Oh, well then it sounds a bit boring. Maybe I shouldn't go…"

"I miggggght get a little into dancing when I've been drinking though."

Harry grinned. "Please tell me you're going to be waltzing around your common room."

Draco's eyes were bright. "I suppose you'll have to come and see."

"Alright, I'm back in."

Draco ran a thumb over Harry's cheekbone. "I already know what you're going to be like when you're sloshed."

"You do not."

"Yes I do. Totally predictable."

Harry had never had more than a couple butterbeers at a time, but he didn't need Draco to start gaping over that too. "Right. Just like you knew how I was in bed?"

"Oh I stand by that prediction. Just because you haven't had sex yet doesn't mean I'm wrong."

Harry's face grew hot. His mind drifted to what Draco had said about him in bed…about them in bed together. "So, what am I like when I'm drunk, then?"

"You are a laugher. You'll think everything is funny. Well, the jokes that you understand anyway."

"Ha ha," Harry said flatly.

"And a song belter. If a song comes on you like, you're going to interrupt everything, jump onto the dance floor, and shout the words like some ruffian."

Harry wasn't so sure about that. He definitely didn't like being the center of attention and that sounded like a sure way to be in the spotlight. But he supposed if he were lost in a crowd, something about the image was kind of fun. "I don't think there will be any songs at a Slytherin party that I'll know, so I guess you'll stay in the dark on that one."

"Seriously? You've been in the wizarding world since you were eleven. You're telling me you don't know wizard music."

"I know some. But it's not really as good as muggle music."

Draco's jaw dropped. "How dare you, Potts."

"What can I say? Muggle music is just so…" Harry pretended to grasp for the word before his mouth twitched into a smirk. "…singable."

"Ha, I knew it."

"Not sure I should be drinking at this party, though. Seems a bit stupid to get pissed surrounded by Slytherins."

Draco sobered a little. "I won't leave you to fend for yourself, you know, even if you're completely snockered. I won't let anyone attack you."

That made Harry sort of warm all over. "I was actually more concerned about making an arse of myself in front of people who would never let me live it down. Though you make a good point. I'll also be on my toes to make sure I don't get transfigured into a pile of goo."

He expected Draco to joke, but he didn't. "Seriously. I'll get you out of there if anything goes south. Even if it's just you getting too sloppy. I promise."

Harry stared at him in surprise. "Okay."

"Good. Now you have no excuse not to drink with me." Draco puffed out his chest theatrically. "And don't you worry. I'm not very interested in snogging a pile of goo so I suppose I'll have to defend you."

Harry snorted. "I think I can handle some Slytherins."

A mischievous grin crossed Draco's face. "You can handle this Slytherin."

"Is that a sex joke?"

Draco brushed their noses together. "Potter, you are going to get eaten alive in there and I am going to enjoy it immensely."

"Just give me a secret signal if something is a sex joke so I can act like I'm experienced and cool."

"Alright. This will be the signal. Pay attention." Draco grabbed Harry's face and snogged him.

Harry kissed him back hard. He felt so light, so absurdly happy, he was suddenly sure that this was the new memory that would fuel all his patronuses.

#

Draco rolled his sleeves up to his elbows as he headed down to the common room. Music was already pounding. Occasionally peopled invited a Ravenclaw they were shagging to Slytherin parties, but it was usually just their own house. A Gryffindor in the mix was unheard of. Harry Potter walking in would cause a bloody riot.

Of course, in Slytherin, riots were rather understated. More whispering and plotting than yelling and torches.

Draco was rather looking forward to the fuss. He liked being the center of attention and most people in his house respected him enough to follow his lead. He was pretty sure there wouldn't be trouble. Not if Theo could keep his hands to himself, anyway.

But he couldn't quite shake some strange nerves. His mind kept drifting to whether Harry would get along with his friends or whether he'd have a good time, which was absurd. Since when had Draco ever cared about that type of thing? If he'd ever been shagging some Ravenclaw and they'd moaned about being bored, he'd decide on the spot whether he wanted to drag them off for a shag or wave them away and stay with his friends. And he wasn't even shagging Harry.

If he wasn't careful, people would accuse him of being sentimental.

But he didn't care about Harry. It would just be a victory if the Gryffindor-iest Gryffindor and Draco's former sworn enemy ended up having fun at a Slytherin party.

That was all it was.

Music blared around him. Only fourth years and above were invited. Draco and his friends had tried to crash as third years and their Head Boy had locked them all in a cell in the dungeons for the night.

He was used to the parties now, but they still made him feel right at home. A cluster of older classmates danced near the drinks table. A bunch of fourth years played spin the bottle—that game would certainly get dirtier as the night went on, especially if the older students kicked them out and took over.

Crabbe and Goyle were arm wrestling on a table filled with cups, each drinking with their free hand.

Blaise met him with a shot glass on offer. They clinked glasses and tipped them back. As Draco tried not to wince, Pansy held out her cocktail. "Go on."

Draco sipped the sugary drink to wipe out the taste.

Blaise smirked. "I thought only girls and fourth-years needed chasers."

Draco made sure he didn't bristle at the comment in a way anyone could notice. He handed Pansy back her cup. "You're lucky you have your looks, Blaise. Otherwise, I'm not sure I'd be able to tolerate you."

Blaise smirked. "You'd be bored without me."

Theo bounded up with Millicent in tow. "So Draco, where's your Gryffindor boy toy? Are you almost done with him because I really want to play with him."

Blaise tipped his head back with a dramatic uck sound. "What is the sudden interest in the Golden Boy? He's the most boring virgin in our year. He's too frigid to let Draco do anything actually fun with him."

Draco grabbed Pansy's cup and downed the whole thing, needing to block his expression until he could get it under control.

Pansy huffed at the loss of her cocktail.

"You all leave my boy toy for me to play with as I wish. Go find your own if you have so many opinions. Come along, Pansy, I owe you a new drink."

They headed toward the drinks table. Millicent called after him. "Seriously, Draco, when you come back, we want to know if there's actually a game plan here or if you've just been neutered by Prude Potter."

Pansy slid an arm around Draco's tense shoulders. She eyed him over her new cocktail, taking a sip without breaking eye contact. "You think Potter will be able to handle this? Or do you think he's going to flee in fear and scandal."

Draco tipped back more of Pansy's fruity drink. He had a feeling he was going to need plenty of alcohol tonight. He only needed to make sure he was sober enough to look out for Harry as promised. "If he flees, it's going to be because Theo won't stop humping his leg."

Pansy pursed her lips and made a hmm sound. "Theo isn't who I would watch out for."

Draco glanced at her sharply. "What do you mean?"

She tilted her head back toward their friends. "Blaise. You've turned down every one of his advances since you started this up with Potter. He's not happy."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Blaise will be fine."

"You always underestimate the intensity of Blaise's…attention."

Attention was probably the best way to put it. Draco always suspected Blaise had never gotten over the fact that Draco had chosen Pansy to lose his virginity to. He didn't seem bothered when Draco slept around with most people, but Blaise's face always took on a dark look when Draco fooled around with Pansy.

Blaise was also Draco's most fun friend. He understood what it meant to just let loose and have a good time. He had a way of sweet-talking people that got them out of all sorts of messes, and a nasty way of insulting people without them realizing it that Draco often found entertaining.

Draco hadn't noticed any of those dark looks creeping back. He'd need to look out for it. Pansy didn't tend toward overreactions.

"Blaise is well-trodden territory for me."

Pansy raised an eyebrow with a smirk. "So will you trod Potter tonight."

Draco downed another shot. "None of your business."

"If you don't go off with Potter, Blaise will definitely come for you. And if you turn him down, you know he's going to be telling everyone you've been whipped by the Golden Boy."

Whipped? No one had ever said that about Draco. He wanted to protest, but figured changing the subject was a better way to avoid further discussion. "Have your eye on anyone tonight?"

Pansy shrugged. "Not particularly. We'll see where the night goes." Her eyes flicked up from her drink. "Ah, the fun begins."

All around the common room door, people had stopped what they were doing to openly stare.

Harry's eyes nervously searched the crowd. He tensed under the gaze of dozens of judging, threatening glares. He sagged in relief when he spotted Draco.

Draco put down his glass and headed over. When he reached Harry, he slung an arm around his shoulders. "Ready for this?"

Harry took in the scene with raised eyebrows. "When you said a party, I thought you meant a few of you hanging out with a smuggled case of butterbeer. Snape lets you do this?"

"How unsurprising that Gryffindor parties are dreadfully lame."

Harry nodded toward the table. "Crabbe versus Goyle in arm wrestling. Who've you got money on? I've got Crabbe. I'm loyal like that."

Draco smirked and led Harry over to his friends. "Don't tell anyone you're loyal. They'll think you're a Hufflepuff."

Theo leapt forward and threw his arms around Harry in a hug, pressing their bodies flush together. "Hello my extremely patient tutor. Maybe we can go over some wand movements later." He waggled his eyebrows and even Harry couldn't be dense enough not know what wand Theo was referring to.

Harry laughed and extricated himself from Theo's grip. "I don't think so."

Blaise opened his mouth but Pansy stepped forward and cut him off. "So, Potter, how does this party rate?"

Harry considered the room, pausing on a few people drinking out of the ice luge. His eyes widened at a couple in the corner groping each other hard. "I'm sure not in Gryffindor anymore."

All Draco's friends, aside from Blaise, smirked with pride.

"Let's get you a drink." Draco pulled him off to the drinks table. "What'll you have."

He could tell instantly from the lost look on Harry's face that he had no clue about alcohol. "Merlin's fucking beard, you've never actually been drunk, have you?"

"I've had butterbeer."

"Oh Potter. No sex and no booze? What do you even do for fun?"

Harry picked up a bottle, reading the label. "I'm prepared to try it. I just don't know where to begin."

This was going to be fun. "We are starting with shots. And despite what Blaise will tell you, they are very good chased with something absolutely drowning in sugar."

#

Half an hour later, music pounding in the background, Draco's group had taken over the couches and chairs. Draco was surprised his friends had actually been on decent behavior.

"Tell us, Potter, what do you think of our common room?" asked Millicent. "I can't imagine the assault on the eyes the Gryffindor common room must be. I picture tacky tartan and gold lions everywhere."

A mischievous look came over Harry's face. "It's actually not my first time in here."

Millicent snorted. "You expect us to believe that?"

Draco searched Harry's face for a sign he was lying. "What are you on about?"

"Second year. Thought it was a bit chilly but very grand. I watched Draco steal something off a table."

Pansy arched an eyebrow at Draco. "Hm, that does sound on-brand for you, darling."

"What? What did I take?"

Harry cupped a hand around Draco's ear and whispered, "Someone else's little green present, you bad, bad Slytherin."

Draco remembered it and whirled on Harry in shock. "How did you manage that? Where were you hiding?"

"Tricks of the trade," Harry said mysteriously. "I'm just rather sly and cunning like that."

Draco's jaw dropped. Harry really could have been in Slytherin.

Everyone broke into theories about how he'd been in their common room while Draco was in there without being seen.

Harry grinned happily at the group and held up a hand. "Tell you what. I'm gonna get another one of these," he shook his empty cup, "and when I come back, you get three guesses but only three. Want another drink, Draco?"

Draco nodded and Harry weaved to the drinks table, just a little unsteady with alcohol. Most people still turned to watch him as he passed. Draco's hand twitched toward his wand, scanning for any sign someone might attack. But Harry made it fine, picking up bottles and examining their labels.

Out of all the ways he'd thought this would go, Draco hadn't imagined this. It was as though Harry was one of them. Like he'd been there all along.

Millicent snapped to get his attention. "Draco! You know that Gryffindor hooligan better than any of us. Help us guess."

"Someone must've invited him in, right?" Theo waggled his eyebrows. "Maybe he's not as innocent as he seems."

Draco rolled his eyes. Harry was definitely as innocent as he seemed. "That was in Year Two, don't be gross. No. Knowing him, he spied somehow. He must've been on some do-gooder quest and eavesdropped on the password. Probably was crouching behind a curtain or something."

They all looked around, searching for possible hiding places.

"Gregory, Vincent, help me think. You were there."

The two exchanged confused looks. "We were?"

Crabbe pointed at the fireplace. "Maybe in there?"

Pansy patted his arm. "He would have burned to death, wouldn't he have, darling?"

Draco tried not to look Harry's way. If his housemates caught him staring after him every few seconds, they'd give him shit.

But his eyes flicked over.

Blaise was sidling up to the drinks table. Harry looked up.

Draco straightened, glancing back at the group in surprise. He hadn't noticed Blaise leave.

His shoulders tensed as he watched the pair. If Pansy was right, Blaise would try to scare him off. Or piss him off.

Blaise poured his own drink with much more finesse than Harry. He was speaking and Draco couldn't hear from this far away. Harry turned to Blaise, a wary expression crossing his face.

The crowd shifted and he lost his line of sight.

"Ugh, Draco's fixated on his goody-goody Gryffindork," said Millicent.

"Mmm, I'm fixated on his goody-goody Gryffindork too," said Theo.

Draco ignored them, getting to his feet. He tried to crane his head around the group standing in his way.

The crowd shifted and there they were. Blaise was right next to Harry. He'd figured Blaise would have the nasty gleam in his eye he got when gearing up to verbally destroy someone.

But instead, Draco was even more startled to see Blaise had the look he got whenever he suggested Draco should follow him up to his room.

Blaise leaned to whisper in Harry's ear. Then, his hand slid onto Harry's arse and he abruptly pulled Harry's hips against his own. Harry jumped and spilled vodka on the table.

Fury erupted through Draco and he lurched toward them, ready to grab Blaise by the neck and throw him off of Harry.

But Draco only made it a step before Harry's wand was in Blaise's face. Blaise leapt back, grabbing the warts sprouting out all over his skin. He caught sight of his reflection in the large mirror hanging next to the fireplace.

"You fucking shit," he roared. "What did you do to me?"

Everyone in the vicinity turned to watch, going silent.

Harry's green eyes were fiery, his wand confident in his hand. "Touch me again and the next time, it's boils."

Draco watched with an open mouth, stunned.

Harry plucked up the two drinks he'd made and, ignoring the stares that followed him, headed back to the group. He stood before them, without a glimmer of remorse on his face. "I hexed your friend. Should I go?"

Pansy regarded Harry coolly. "You're welcome to break any finger someone puts on you without your consent."

Theo nodded. "Yeah, you should be ravished by Slytherins eagerly, not unwillingly."

Harry's famous blush was back. Draco snorted. Not as innocent as he seems, please.

"You're staying, Potter. We need to present our guesses," said Millicent. "Besides, what's a party without someone getting hexed?"

The group went back to trying to agree on a guess.

Harry turned to Draco and handed him one of the drinks. "I put something pink in them that smelled like candy. Thought you might like that."

Draco felt a strong urge to toss the drink to the floor, grab Harry, and snog the breath right out of him.

Instead, he tugged Harry to sit back next to him on the couch. He leaned in and whispered right into his ear. "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen you do."

Harry's face went red and he snuck a smile at Draco before sipping from his own cup.

Then he turned to Draco's friends. "Alright, what have you got for me?"

#

Over the next few hours, Harry put on a good front, but he'd become charmingly smashed. Draco was pleased to find, as he'd predicted, Harry laughed with his head thrown back more and more, leaving his friends delighted that someone thought they were so witty and entertaining. When Draco pulled him up to dance in the crowd by the fireplace, Harry tried to sing along with everyone else even though he obviously didn't know the words, grinning at Draco like he was the only person in the whole damn party.

At the end of the night, everyone stumbled upstairs, liquor bottles tucked under arms, while two prefects spelled the trash and spills away.

Harry leaned into Draco for a kiss, but Draco took his shoulders and held him firmly in place. Draco longed to toss Harry onto the couch and ravish him right in the middle of the common room, but Harry's eyes were glazed.

"Sorry, Potter, you are sadly too drunk to make good decisions about public snogging right now."

"I'm no' that drunk." He stumbled over his own feet and grabbed Draco's arm to right himself.

"Well, we're certainly not getting you back to your common room unnoticed. What did you tell your friends you were doing tonight?"

Harry shrugged. "Iss date night. They din't really ask." He suddenly looked serious. "I'm sorry. I need to tell 'em. You tol' your friends and iss not fair."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I don't care what you tell your friends. But if I deliver you to their doorstep like this without context, they'll think I kidnapped you and poured liquor down your unwilling throat."

Harry's face screwed up into a thinking expression. He seemed to be having a much harder time than usual coming up with a plan. "I have my invisibillilly cloak, but I still think people will know I'm drunk if I run into 'em."

An invisibility cloak? An invisibility cloak? How was the world so unjust that Harry had a rare, ancient magical artifact when he barely knew who the Weird Sisters were?

"Well now we know how you got into our common room."

Harry tapped him on the nose with a finger. "Nope. Still wrong."

Draco glanced around. They were not completely alone and if anyone lingering around had connections to Death Eaters, letting them know that Harry Potter had a fucking invisibility cloak was a very bad idea.

He wheeled Harry toward the portal.

"Are people going to panic if we don't bring you back and your bed's empty in the morning?"

The thinking face was back. "They'll be having sex in our room tonight. I can say thass why I slept somewhere else, even though they use silencing charms. Except Neville sometimes botches his." He shuddered.

Draco was hearing a lot tonight that was hard to process. "Longbottom!?"

"He's dating Ginny. But they usually try to have sex in a different room than Ron and Hermione, so could be in the girls' dorm."

"Yikes, Potter. That's really sad for you. You are literally surrounded by shagging. I figured your prudeness was some Gryffindor-wide foible."

"Nope. I'm prude all on my own." As they passed the staircase up to the dorms, Harry dropped his voice to a whisper. "Am I staying in your bed?"

Draco sucked in a long breath. "Damn, I wish. Come on. We can park you in your delightful secret sex room."

He pulled Harry out of the common room. "Where's this cloak of yours?"

Harry showed him where he'd hidden it behind a statue.

Draco held up the shimmering fabric in awe. Something hit him. "Damn you. That was you in Hogsmeade in Year Three, I fucking knew it you absolute twat!"

"That wasn't my slyest or cunningest moment." Harry swayed on his feet. "But c'mon, admit it. It was pretty funny."

Draco threw it over both of them and it created a suddenly intimate space.

Harry brushed his finger over Draco's lower lip, staring at it hard. Draco's breathing hitched.

"Nope," said Draco, spinning Harry around and marching him toward the Room of Requirement. "You are too drunk."

The room had, indeed, generated a bed when they stumbled inside. Harry burst into laughter seeing it and the cloak fell to the floor. He pointed. "You were right!"

Draco smirked. He was rather fond of Harry, the drunk laugher. "Of course I was right. Perfect sex room."

Harry tugged off his shoes and stumbled to the bed, crawling onto it, then flopping onto his back. He took a deep breath, eyes already closed.

"Thanks for inviting me to the party," Harry muttered.

Draco sat next to his prone form. "If I'd known you'd hex Blaise's face off, I would have invited you sooner."

But Harry's breath had already evened out.

Draco tugged off his glasses and put them on the nightstand. He got Harry conscious enough to get his head on the pillow and the rest of him under the covers.

Draco stripped to his boxers, not about to sleep in his uncomfortable clothes. He considered the bed. It was a big bed. It wasn't like he'd be doing anything with Harry but sleeping next to him.

But knowing Harry, he'd think waking up in bed with someone for the first time was special or something.

He lingered by the bed, watching Harry sleep for a minute, smiling at memories of the party.

He shook his head suddenly. Merlin, what was wrong with him?

He whirled off to the couch, where a pillow and blanket appeared on his approach.

Maybe he'd had too many of Harry's pink drinks.

#

When Draco woke up, the bed was empty.

He sat there, hair mussed, and stared at the crisply tucked in sheets. Normally, finding someone had slipped out in the middle of the night would be a relief. It was usually after a night of fun and was a sign they knew it was just that. Once, Draco had slept with Terry Boot and found him still there in the morning instead of secured back in the Ravenclaw tower, looking at Draco with moony eyes, asking about getting breakfast and spending the day together.

That was the last time Draco slept with a virgin. Whatever people thought, he didn't enjoy the crushed look on that boy's face when Draco explained he wasn't the boyfriend type. For months, Boot would make comments to people about Draco being cold and heartless. Draco was pretty sure he heard the word slag flung around. Draco hadn't cared much about the insults, but he had been frustrated. He'd made his intentions clear to Boot, it wasn't his fault Boot had other ideas.

Eventually Alannis Shepley interrupted Terry's whining and told him that you don't go sleeping with a Slytherin looking for a boyfriend, you go sleeping with a Slytherin because they know what the hell they're doing.

She'd winked at Draco on her way out of the classroom and Draco had been grateful. Alannis had hooked up with Pansy at quite a few parties before eventually getting a steady Hufflepuff girlfriend whose name Draco couldn't remember.

Draco had poached that line to make sure he and the people he shagged were on the same page.

So finding Harry gone was…a relief. Harry got it. This thing wasn't dating. It was just fun.

But his stomach was strangely tight as he wandered over to the bed, noticing Harry had made it, tucking the sheets back in and fluffing the pillows so there was no dent where his head had been. Harry was a strange one. Who was he making the bed for? It would disappear the moment Draco left the room.

It wasn't that he was disappointed, he'd simply expected to wake up to Potter groaning from a hangover. His hair would be in a complete state and Draco would need to teach him to drink loads of water. He'd have the room give Draco his favorite hangover remedy for Harry to try—a salty noodle soup that made Blaise's lip curl every time Draco got it from the kitchens. Blaise always said it would make Draco fat or called it a soup for impoverished people with no taste. It was all in good fun, Draco supposed, but it still got on his nerves.

He spotted a folded note with his name on it. Snatching it up from the nightstand, he flipped it open.

Sneaking back to Gryffindor before people wake up. Hate to be the bearer of bad news but your pink drink might be actual poison—feels like I chased a tub of candy floss with a beaker of acid. Thanks for bringing me. Never been to a party like that. Another good lesson in my education.

-Harry

A grin spread across Draco's face before he caught it and forced his expression back to a cool, collected one. He smoothed down his hair and went to drop the note into the bin.

His hand stilled. On second thought, it was good blackmail. Harry might deny he'd ever gotten drunk at a Slytherin party. Draco needed to hold on to the evidence.

#

"Wan' some?" Ron asked through a mouthful of eggs. He held out the pitcher of pumpkin juice after finishing pouring himself a glass.

Harry's stomach lurched at the thought of the sickly sweetness. He shook his head weakly and sipped water.

Ron shrugged and poured Hermione a glass.

Ron's foot rubbed sensually against Harry's shin and Harry kicked him. "Wrong leg, mate. She's one over."

Ron went red and muttered. "Oops, sorry again." Hermione hid a smile in her book.

Seamus tracked Harry with a suspicious expression that made Harry nervous. He tried to push his queasiness down and take a big bite of his eggs, but the smell made the pink drink threaten to rise again. He gulped more water down.

A Cheshire grin spread across Seamus's face. "Harry, mate, are you…hungover?"

Every eye around swiveled straight to him. Hermione put her book down. Glee crossed Ginny's face.

Harry cleared his throat. "Hungover? What? No. I'm just…these eggs are weird."

Ron gaped at him. "What? But I thought you were…huh, actually, I don't know what I thought you were doing last night. You were drinking? With who?" He looked around the table for a suspect.

Seamus grinned wolfishly and jabbed Dean's arm. "And didn't I tell you the other day that I thought he looked thoroughly snogged?"

Dean elbowed Seamus back hard. "Let him have his privacy."

Now everyone was really staring at him, his waterglass frozen partway to his mouth.

Hermione blinked at him owlishly. "Harry, are you seeing someone?"

"No!" Harry choked, on the edge of panic. If they knew, every one of those bright, curious smiles would vanish. And what would he say? That Draco Malfoy wasn't his boyfriend, he was just teaching Harry how to make out and drink. Yeah, they'd love that.

Ginny practically squealed. "Who is it, Harry?" She must've seen the look on his face. "Oh come on, you've got to tell us. It's great you've got someone."

Ron frowned, looking rather miffed. "You're seeing someone and you haven't told me?"

"Seamus doesn't know what he's talking about."

Seamus waggled his eyebrows. "Ooh, a secret, then. You've got a shag buddy you're trying to keep quiet, don't you, mate?"

Ron's eyes widened. "You're shagging someone? But you've barely even—" Ron yelped and rubbed his shin. Harry wasn't sure who had kicked him, Hermione or Ginny, but he was grateful.

"I am not shagging anyone." His face was hot, but at least he could say that one honestly.

Dean took Seamus's elbow and whispered into his ear with a stern expression.

"Aw, come on, I'm just teasing him a little," Seamus said.

Harry felt like the pink drink might come up. He lurched up from the table. "I've gotta go," he muttered.

"Gotta go meet your secret lover—ah, Dean, okay! You're no fun!"

Ron struggled to get up from the bench, but Ginny grabbed his robes and pulled him back down. The wheels behind Hermione's eyes were already turning.

As Harry passed the Ravenclaw table on the way out, he was relieved to notice Kim Sheringham was wearing sunglasses indoors. They must've had their own party the night before. That might throw people off.

He forced his gaze to stay fixed on the door ahead. If his eyes flicked to the Slytherin table, it would give everything away.

He felt terrible. Harry had done shots with Slytherins the night before like they were friends, while he couldn't even face his actual friends. Harry just wanted a little more time for this to be his. Before everyone else had something to say about it. Before they all started judging him.

Before they asked him what exactly he and Draco were doing and Harry would have to admit he didn't know.