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Author of 73 Stories |
NOTE: Deliberate use of "scholarly" language at the beginning of this chapter. Reviews are greatly appreciated.
Oh, by all means, many members of the graduating class of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were engaged in consuming high protein “snacks” with one another: in corners, on couches, even on four poster beds up in the dormitories.
Indeed, one would need proper music to get the mind into study mode.
The pulsing beat of the bass reverberated through the entire house of Gryffindor. The multi-colored lights that moved sideways and up and down silhouetted the mass of gyrating bodies and heated flesh. The ever clever Miss Hermione Granger managed to enable appropriate lighting and music, befitting of a studious atmosphere, to be seen and heard throughout the Tower and not allowing any of it to escape into the corridors. However, the only studying any of the Seventh Years were doing was of each others anatomies…
Undoubtedly, one would have to be clothed in comfortable attire to truly be allowed to study in its entirety. Thus the reason for Harry Potter’s flushed appearance as he stumbled down the stairs. He was clad in loosely fitting black cargoes and an emerald green short-sleeved button-up shirt. Harry stood at the bottom of the stairs with a not quite pissed grin plastered across his face. Said grin being the product of not entirely enough of the provided quenching beverages, he thought, as he grabbed at a levitating tray laden with blue fizzing concoctions. Harry quickly downed the drink; the fizz numbed the slight burn as the liquid was swallowed. He set the empty glass on a nearby table and took in the scene before him. Even to a blind man it would be blatantly obvious that the gathering was most certainly not a N.E.W.T.s study session.
The loud music could be heard from any nook or cranny in the tower and the gasps and moans of several teens were audible every few feet. There were students sprawled across sofas getting into all sorts of illicit substances, the so-called quenching beverages were all mixtures of various alcoholic and caffeinated drinks, hell, there were practically people having sex on the impromptu dance floor that was the common room.
Harry glanced around the room; to his right stood Seamus Finnegan, drunkenly entertaining a giggling gang of guys and girls, a bit further on Neville Longbottom of all people was busy having his neck ravaged by some half naked bloke from Ravenclaw. His gaze continued on, bypassing a barely clothed couple rutting against one another, and landed on that unmistakable head of silver-blond hair.
There stood Draco Malfoy, Harry noticed, clad in black denims with a sheer crème colored top that made him appear nude from the waist up. His eyes traveled up Draco’s legs and torso and finally met the blond’s smirking face.
Draco, with the heel of his boot against the wall, was kind of dancing though not at all. He snapped his fingers to the time of the beat of the music. He was avidly listening to Pansy animatedly talk about something or other when he felt the weight of someone’s gaze. He turned into the direction he felt it coming from and cocked an elegant eyebrow and smirked as he caught sight of his voyeur.
Draco smiled internally at catching Harry staring at him. It was unquestionably obvious to Draco that he’d had a special interest in Harry even before they first met. He’d grown up listening to stories about the famous Harry Potter and how he defeated Voldemort when he was just a wee infant.
Draco remembered that the subject of Harry Potter was the only thing that could cause his father to rant and rave and turn a nasty shade of plum. He thought that if the mere mention of this boy’s name could get a rise out of his father, he should definitely become friends with him. Even Draco himself was unable to get his father so passionately animated and was in awe that a boy his age could cause it. Being the reason that whence Draco had first boarded the Hogwarts Express he went searching for the boy.
He was terribly crushed and disappointed when Harry declined his hand in friendship. Over the rest of his years at Hogwarts Draco could only throw taunts and jibes, and a few hexes of course, at Harry to get his attention.
It was Blaise Zabini that pointed out that the only reason Draco teased Harry was because he had a crush on the boy. Really, it was no surprise to Draco to discover that he’d fancied Harry. He had thought that Harry was adorable the first time he’d seen him, though he’d never tell anybody that. Draco was indiscriminate when it came to the gender of his lovers; he was a Malfoy after-all.
Tonight, Draco felt a thrill of excitement as Harry eyed him.
Harry was unaware of his feet moving, of their own accord over to the group of Slytherins, until he was standing right in front of Draco. He was unsure as to why he thought he should go over to Draco in the first place.
Draco’s smirk widened in an attempt to quell his excitement. “Well if it isn’t Harry Potter. What brings you here?”
Harry furrowed his brow, “Honestly, Draco, I’m not really sure myself,” he said, and then let out a small laugh.
Draco couldn’t resist the opportunity to get Harry on his own. “Well, since you’re over here, why don’t you come out and dance with me?”
Harry’s eyes widened, then he coughed, “Er, what?”
Draco chuckled, “Dance. With. Me. Harry,” he replied as he pushed himself off the wall.
Harry shivered at the way Draco practically purred his name. Then he realized Draco was making his way to the dance floor. Harry trailed after him and exclaimed, “But Malfoy, I don’t know how!”
Draco turned around and pulled on Harry’s hand to get him onto the dance floor. The song changed over and the beat was pulsing even faster than before.
He pressed his mouth against Harry’s ear and said, “Just watch me.”
He started to sway his hips in time with the rhythm of the drums and all Harry could do was stare. He’d never thought a boy could dance so seductively. Draco had a come hither way of dancing, like he was trying to reel you in. Apparently Harry couldn’t fight the pull as he found himself not even a hand’s width away from Draco.
“Come on then, all those drinks you’ve had should allow you to throw caution to the wind. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Harry closed his eyes and let his body feel the music. He slowly began to swing his hips to the beat of the song, gradually meeting the pace of Draco’s dancing. Just when he was actually getting into it the song changed.
Draco barely contained a squeal of delight as his favorite song began to play. He grabbed Harry’s shoulders and pulled him close.
Harry squeaked as he was abruptly pulled toward Draco’s warm body. He braced his hands on Draco’s hips so he wouldn’t crash fully into the other boy.
Malfoy flipped his hair, put his arms around Harry’s neck, and started to say “Oh god, it’s my favorite song!”
Harry had the urge to pull Draco closer, so he did so, encircling Draco’s waist with his arms.
Draco smiled as Harry wrapped his arms around his waist and started singing along to the lyrics.
It had been quite some time since Draco had been in this close a proximity to anyone. The way they were dancing, arms wrapped around each other, chins on shoulders and chests against chests, just felt so intimate. The fact that he was dancing like this with Harry sent a strange sensation rushing to his groin. Draco’s eyes widened, hoping that Harry wouldn’t feel the bulge suddenly growing against his thigh.
Harry couldn’t fathom why he’d allowed Draco to pull him onto the dance floor. Granted, he hadn’t exactly said no and he was amused by Draco’s suggestion. It was a fact that there was no longer animosity between the two boys, but they weren’t exactly friends. Acquaintances, you could say, as the summer before Seventh Year Draco deflected to the side of the light and contributed his spectacular potion making skills which aided in Voldemort’s demise.
But Harry hadn’t considered Draco to be a friend; they didn’t sit around, eating chocolate frogs together, talking about Quidditch.
Harry couldn’t deny that he was intrigued that Draco had wanted to dance with him. He supposed that that was the reason he was here, in the center of the dance floor, with his arms full of Malfoy.
Draco noticed Harry’s far-away expression and ground his hips against him to get his attention, NOT to relieve some of the ache in his groin…
Harry snapped his attention back to Draco, blushing as he’d not been aware of the goings on around him. “Sorry, got caught up in my thoughts.”
Draco pouted; it was slightly disheartening that Harry hadn’t felt how pleased Draco was to be dancing with him.
Well, Draco was having none of it and decided to make Harry well aware of just how pleased he was.
He pressed his mouth to Harry’s ear once again and panted, “This song is turning me on. The beat is doing me in.”
Harry audibly gulped and Draco continued, “Or maybe it’s only you,” as he suggestively thrust his hips against Harry’s.
Harry gasped, eyes widened as Draco thrust just once against him. ‘Had he really just said I’m turning him on?’ Harry thought. All Harry could do was stand there, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Harry shook his head and was about to reply when somebody grabbed his shoulder from behind. He turned around and was never happier, or more disappointed, to see his best mate, Ron.
“Harry?” asked Ron hesitantly.
Harry untangled from Draco, unaware of Draco’s pout as he did so, and nodded for Ron to continue.
“Well, y’see, Fred and George just floo-called and they’ve got the booze. They told me to get you to help carry it back and to use the you-know-what, too…”
Harry looked at Draco apologetically. “Well… Thanks for the dance,” he flashed Draco a smile and Draco could only smile back. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”
“Yeah, see you,” said Draco, chin down, boot toeing at the floor.
Harry watched as Draco walked, head down, back to his Slytherin friends.
Now, Harry really wasn’t in the mood to traipse down the lawn with Ron under the Invisibility Cloak, dodge angry whacks from the Whomping Willow, travel down the secret passage, and carry copious amounts of alcohol back up to the tower… without getting caught.
Harry reluctantly turned away from Draco’s retreating form and followed Ron up the stairs to their dormitory. They were both surprised to find the small Seventh Year Boys’ Common Room to be empty. Harry went into his room, retrieved the Cloak out of the bottom of his trunk, and they made their way back out into the main Common Room. Through the portrait hole they went, invisibly of course. When they’d passed Hagrid’s hut Ron mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like cozy, dance floor, and Malfoy.
Harry paused, causing Ron to run into his back. “What was that that you just said?”
“Nothing,” Ron paused, “Awright, why were you getting cozy out on the dance floor with Malfoy?”
Harry rolled his eyes, “He asked me to dance with him, so I did. S’no big deal.”
“…But usually two blokes don’t dance all close like the two of you did. Come to think of it they don’t normally dance together at all. I mean, guys barely even dance with the girls. And you looked up for just about anything Malfoy would’ve asked you to do.”
Harry stood there, mouth agape, staring incredulously at his friend. “Are you suggesting there’s something going on between Draco and me?”
“Since when have you two been on a first-name basis?”
“Since he helped us out last summer I’ve been calling him Draco. Ron, you really are daft. Look, if you want to continue this conversation we’ll talk about it tomorrow, alright? Let’s just get to the Shrieking Shack, get the alcohol, and then get back to the Tower.”
Ron nodded mutely and they resumed their walk. They met Fred and George, exchanged greetings and thanks, and with a wink the twins Apparated back to their joke shop. Ron and Harry cast weightlessness charms on their respective cases of booze and made it back to the Tower.
Upon arrival Harry noticed that less people were on the dance floor and there were at least a quarter less people on the couches. It seemed that the party was losing momentum. Harry glanced around, looking for that head of tell-tale blond hair but couldn’t find Draco anywhere. He furrowed his brow, why do I even want to see him anyway? He shrugged and made his way over to the stairs.
“Harry, about Mal-”
“Save it, Ron. I said tomorrow. Now, I’m heading up to bed. Promise we’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?”
“Yeah, awright. Night then.”
“Night, Ron.”
Harry made his way up the stairs to the Seventh Year Boys’ dormitory. He went through the door and to his room and was surprised to find someone already in his bed. He looked around at the other boys’ rooms, none of them were in their beds yet, and it couldn’t be any of them anyway; he’d seen them all downstairs before he’d gone up to bed.
He saw in the moonlight the pale milky-whiteness of the person’s skin; with legs so slender there was no way they could belong to a boy. Harry stepped further into the room. On closer inspection he noticed the person was sprawled on their belly. He couldn’t help but notice the black skirt riding up their waist to show black lace panties that showed just a hint of arsecheek. He was drawn to this person and couldn’t help but tentatively run his fingertips across the smooth skin of their calf and thigh, pausing as the person shifted in their sleep and let out a contented sigh.
With the shift in position, Harry could see the front of the person’s body. Harry’s mouth fell open as he noticed a tent forming at the front of the skirt. Harry froze, his eyes roaming up the person’s torso and stopping on their face.
Draco bleeding Malfoy was passed out on Harry Potter’s bed, in a bloody skirt!
Harry carefully clambered onto the bed. He gently shook Draco’s shoulder and whispered his name.
“Argh…go ‘way, m’tryna sleep,” he mumbled, snuggling into Harry’s body.
Once again, Harry felt Draco’s hardness against his thigh.
Harry ran a hand through his own hair and sighed. He shook Draco’s shoulder again and said a little more loudly, “Malfoy!”
Draco’s mouth formed a pout and he said “Whazzit?”
Harry couldn’t help but chuckle, “Draco, you’re in my bed.”
“Potter?”
“Yes.”
“Why’re you in m’room?” asked Draco, slowly opening his eyes.
“I should be the one asking you that, seeing how you are in my bed…”
Malfoy groaned. “Why the hell am I in your room, Potter? What’d you do to me?”
Harry rolled his eyes, “I did nothing to you. I was just making my way to my bed and here I find you, passed out and wearing frilly knickers.”
Draco looked down at himself, “How in the world did I get in these?”
Harry shrugged. “No idea. Now would you budge up? I really want to go to sleep,” said Harry as he pulled off his shirt and trousers and pulled at the coverlet.
Draco jumped out of the bed, “You are not sleeping in this bed like…like that!”
“The hell I am, this is my bed.”
“Well, what do you expect me to do?”
“Scamper off back to the dungeons and sleep in your own bed, Malfoy.”
Draco’s mouth fell open, “In this outfit?! What if I get caught?”
Harry huffed, “Fine! If you don’t mind sleeping in the same bed as me, you can stay here. Christ!”
Draco crossed his arms. “You don’t expect me to sleep next to you when you’re half naked, do you?”
Harry sighed exasperatedly, “If you don’t like it then you can leave.”
Harry got under the blanket and looked over at Draco.
It was Draco’s turn to huff as he started to slip out of the skirt.
Harry’s eyes widened, “Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing?” he practically shrieked.
“I’m staying here. You didn’t expect me to sleep in this rubbish, did you?”
Actually, Harry had expected Draco to just slip in under the cover and go to sleep.
“I can’t believe I’m asking you this, but have you got an extra pair of pajama pants I can sleep in?”
Harry kicked off the blanket as he trudged over to his wardrobe and pulled out a black pair of flannel pants. He turned around and came upon the sight of Draco pulling off the mint colored polka-dotted camisole. He couldn’t believe the image before him; Draco Malfoy with his almost chin length hair down, in nothing but a corset and frilly lace knickers. Harry almost choked as he realized how attractive Draco looked right then. The corset caused Draco’s waist to be pulled in and created the illusion of hips and breasts and made the boy look even thinner than he was, which was really saying something.
Draco, hands on his hips, snapped Harry out of his stare.
“Well?” Draco drawled, holding his hand out for the pajama pants.
Harry blushed. “Er, sorry, here you go.”
Draco slid on the pajamas and looked at Harry.
“I don’t suppose you could help me get this off?”
Harry dragged his eyes away from their position on Draco’s crotch, where Harry noticed there appeared to still be a prominent bulge. He realized Draco had been pointing at the bustier.
“Yeah, course.” Harry walked over to Draco, hands trembling slightly as he lifted them to the black ties that held up the corset. Harry untied each one, careful to avoid touching Draco’s skin. When Harry accidentally brushed a fingertip against Draco’s back, Draco took in a sharp breath. Harry was about to ask if he was alright, but didn’t get a chance as Draco had pulled off the corset.
Harry’s eyes roamed greedily as Draco turned around. He berated himself for thinking of Draco like this, Harry didn’t fancy Draco and he hadn’t even thought he’d fancied boys, excluding that period with Oliver, and that one time with Cedric... But something about Draco made Harry just want to devour him, to claim, to take, to own, him. Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts.
Draco snickered and smirked, having caught Harry hungrily looking at his chest, “See something you like, eh, Potter?”
Harry let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He ignored Malfoy’s comment, getting into the right side of his bed. Draco followed, settling himself on the left side of Harry’s bed. He hadn’t thought that both he and Harry would be able to fit comfortably on the bed, but it was just big enough that their bodies wouldn’t touch.
Harry rolled onto his side, away from Draco and placed his glasses on the bedside table.
Draco settled an arm behind his head and mumbled, “Good night, Harry.” He scoffed as he heard no reply and only the light snores of his bedmate. He sighed then closed his eyes and let sleep take him.
‘Right, Potter’, he thought. Draco was startled when he felt something poking him in the arse and his heart beat faster when he’d realized that it was Harry’s hardened length jabbing him. He’d never thought he would see the day when both he and Harry would be half-nude in the same bed, with Harry hard and wanting on top of him, with himself quickly approaching the same state.
He’d tried to roll Harry off of him, but only succeeded in causing Harry to try and cuddle closer to him. Draco tried to push at Harry’s head to wake him, but only got his fingers caught in the unruly hair. He pulled at the mess, which only caused Harry’s lips to land on the juncture between his neck and shoulder. Draco could feel the hot puffs of air as Harry breathed and tried to calm himself enough to get the sleeping boy off of him.
As if Draco’s wish had been granted, Harry yawned against his shoulder.
He arched his back and successfully dug his erection into Draco’s clothed buttocks.
Harry frowned, no idea of whom the warm body beneath him belonged to. He looked at the person before him, most definitely a bloke. Harry thought he’d be more startled to find another bloke in his bed, but strangely enough he wasn’t; it was kind of exciting. Then he remembered, mentally smacking himself in the forehead. ‘Oh yeah, I let Draco stay.’
“Ah, are you finally up then, Harry?” Draco asked, pressing his arse up and against Harry.
Harry gasped, “God, Draco, don’t do that!”
“Geroff me then, you’re suffocating me.”
Harry scrambled off of Draco and succeeded in falling off his bed. He squinted at the clock on his bedside table and noticed that breakfast was over.
“Bollocks! We’ve got classes today and they’re starting in a few minutes!”
“Whose shite idea was it to have a party on a Sunday? …Snape is not going to be happy if we’re late.”
“Exactly, that’s why we’re not going to be late,” said Harry as he quickly gathered his uniform and started pulling on random articles of clothing.
“We are not going to class without showering!”
“What do you mean we?! You might be able to be late, but I’m not looking forward to getting a detention, thanks.”
Draco looked at Harry, standing there in his boxers, wearing one black sock on his left foot, his shirt half buttoned and his tie around his head. Draco snickered; Harry looked ridiculous.
The blond hopped off the bed and over to Harry.
“Potter, would you rather have your head feel like a troll beat you with a club all day, or have a little detention?”
Harry said, “S’pose so, I do feel like shit.”
“Shower it is then,” Draco smiled.
“You haven’t any clothes,” Harry pointed out.
Draco clucked his tongue, “Can’t you call your house elf friend, Dobby, to get it?”
Harry frowned, he’d never thought of how to contact Dobby if he’d needed anything. He shrugged and called out, “Dobby?”
There was a pop and a squeaky voice rose from around his knees, “What can Dobby be doing for you Harry Potter, Sir?”
“Er, well, could you please pop into Malfoy’s room and get his school uniform, and his bag, too, come to think of it, we’re running late you see…”
“Yes, and if you could, please grab my toiletries, too.”
“Yes sirs, Dobby will be getting the uniform for Malfoy, Sir!” With that, Dobby disappeared and the two boys went into the bathroom.
Before Harry could shut the door Draco was already shucking off both his pants and underwear.
“Geez, Draco, how can you just do…that?”
“Do what?” asked Draco, confused.
“Just…strip down like that?”
Draco smirked, “I’m not ashamed of my body,” he drawled, spreading his arms as if presenting himself. He turned to start the shower and continued, “‘sides, it’s only you.”
Once satisfied with the temperature of the water, Draco jumped in. He heard the pop of Dobby returning and Harry offered a chaste thank you as he ushered Dobby away.
Harry set the stuff on the sink and stood with his back toward the shower.
Draco noticed this and questioned, “Aren’t you going to wash-up?”
“Yes. When you’re done.”
Draco rolled his eyes, “Come on, Harry. If we’re a few minutes late it won’t be too bad, but if we miss the entire period Professor Snape will be furious.”
Harry groaned, he didn’t want to get into the shower with Draco, but he didn’t want to get in trouble for missing class completely. Harry rationalized that he’d showered after Quidditch with the other boys on his team so this should be no different; except for that fact that this wouldn't be the same as they would be in close confines in the same shower cubicle. ‘Whatever’, Harry thought as he pulled off his shirt, tie, sock, and finally his boxers. He was surprised to find he’d been aroused whilst sleeping on Draco and horrified that Draco in the shower did nothing to eliminate said arousal. He sighed and jumped into the shower.
Harry was thankful that their shower was a dual-headed shower, with a stationary head on the wall, and a hand held shower hose. Harry grabbed the shower hose and charmed it to levitate so he wouldn’t have to hold it. He grabbed the mesh sponge and lathered it with soap.
Draco had his back to the spray, washing the shampoo out of his hair. He was quite enjoying watching Harry smooth the sponge across his skin. He seemed to move the sponge in slow sensual circles, over his arms, up to his collarbone and over his neck, down his chest, and over his thighs. Draco was glad his gasp was muted by the water as Harry bent down to wash his calves and ankles. Draco eyed Harry’s sweet, tight, bum just imagining what it would feel like to plunge himself inside and feel that tight heat devour him. He shook his hair out of his eyes and grabbed the bottle of conditioner.
As Harry bent over to wash the bottom half of his legs he could’ve sworn he’d heard Draco gasp behind him. He ignored it and continued to wash himself as quickly as he could. He turned around to wash the suds off the front of his body and he and Draco were face to face. Harry saw Draco surreptitiously glance down, and he smirked, causing Harry to blush.
“Well, well, Harry, is that for me?”
‘Damn, there he goes purring my name again’, thought Harry as he shivered.
Harry glared, “Shut up, Malfoy. It’s not like this only happens to me. S’not my fault; I’m seventeen!”
“Ah yes, so you are. Just be careful with that thing, I don’t want to lose my eye.”
Draco was sure his eyes widened when he’d glanced down and noticed Harry’s erect prick. He hadn’t thought it would be quite as large. Of course, Draco didn’t spend his time pondering the size of the Boy-Who-Lived’s package. …Well, only when he was in the privacy of his own bedroom.
They’d both silently continued washing themselves. Draco turned off the water and pulled open the frosted glass door. Harry grabbed them each a towel and handed one to Draco. Both boys wrapped their towels around their waists and began to dry off.
Harry reached into the cabinet under the sink and procured some Hangover potion. Draco cocked his eyebrow at the offered liquid and Harry shrugged and replied, “Seamus.” They shared a smile and each downed a small vial.
“Bugger, Dobby didn’t bring me any underwear.”
Harry laughed, “You seemed like you quite fancied those lacy panties, why don’t you just wear those again, eh, princess? Or you could always borrow a pair…”
Draco glared half-heartedly, “Fine. I’d rather wear a girl’s underwear than your worn boxers any day.” He dropped his towel and began rubbing on some lotion.
“What are you doing?”
Draco paused. “…putting on lotion…” he replied as if he were speaking to a small child.
“What kind?” Harry quipped, “Smells good.”
“It’s Elfin made lotion, from Sweden. How else did you think my skin got so soft and smooth?” he smiled and winked at Harry.
Harry blushed, remembering how he’d practically molested Draco in his sleep.
Draco tossed Harry the bottle, “You can use some if you’d like.”
Harry uncapped the bottle and poured some into the palm of his hand. Having already put his trousers on, Harry slathered the lotion over his chest and arms. He rubbed in all he could. “I’ve put on too much.” He hadn’t expected Draco to reach over and rub his hands over him to get the extra off. Harry especially hadn’t expected him to rub the rest carefully onto his face.
“There, problem solved.”
Harry’s eyebrows shot into his hair, “Draco, you’re a very strange person,” Harry stated while attempting to button his shirt.
Draco cocked an eyebrow, “How so?”
“Well,” Harry began, “During the party you were being polite to me, teaching me how to dance, and even flirting with me.”
Draco snorted, “That would be a product of alcohol, it blows away your inhibitions.”
“Then,” Harry continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “When we were in my room, you’d accused me of doing something to you, and reverted back to calling me Potter.”
“It’s not often that I find myself in a strange bed, not remembering how I got there.”
“Now, you’re being civil again. You barely even criticized me for springing an erection on you.”
“Well, like you said, we’re seventeen, it happens to all of us.”
Harry giggled, and couldn’t help himself, “Is that what happened to you when we were dancing?”
Draco blushed, and stuttered, “Er, I…Y’see…” he coughed “Yeah, same situation.”
They’d finished dressing and went back into Harry’s room and Harry grabbed his bag, finding that Draco’s bag had been waiting right next to it.
They dashed through the Portrait Hole and quickly made their way to the Potions lab.
“Well, Mister Potter, Mister Malfoy, how lovely of you to honor us with your presence. Twenty minutes late no-less. I believe 20 points from each of your houses will suffice. And stay after class, I need to speak with you both.”
Harry sat down in his seat by Hermione. Hermione started to say something but Harry whispered “Later” and Hermione shut her mouth.
Class passed by and Harry miraculously managed not to lose anymore points for Gryffindor.
Harry and Malfoy stayed behind as requested by Professor Snape.
“As you both know, N.E.W.T.s are quickly approaching. I should give you both detention, but I am doing some tutoring to a few inept pupils and cannot see to your detention. So, I want you to write a combined 10 inch essay on the importance of promptness, and a 12 inch essay on two of the four potions that will most likely be requested of you for your N.E.W.T.s exam. Due to me on Thursday morning. Understood?”
Both boys nodded and said, “Yes, Sir.”
With that, Snape swirled around as his robes billowed behind him, “Indeed. You are dismissed.”
They both shouldered their bags and planned on when to meet and do the essays.
“I’ve got Quidditch practice tonight,” said Harry.
“Bollocks, and I’ve got it Tuesday,” cursed Draco.
“I guess we’ll have to do it Wednesday,” stated Harry.
“Yeah… I’ll meet you at Gryffindor Tower at 6:00 on Wednesday, then.”
“Oka- Wait, why are we doing it there?”
Draco sneered, “Because… I don’t want you in my room.”
Harry rolled his eyes, “Alright, just don’t forget!”
“A date with you, I’d never!” Draco exclaimed as Harry took off to his next class.
Harry’s laughter echoed through the corridor as he said, “You wish, Malfoy!”