Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Harry Potter universe; they belong to JK Rowling. I'm only borrowing them for fun. Please don't sue me. D:

Warning: HPDM slash, Ginny-bashing, not Beta-ed. Don't like don't read.

Author's Note: Enjoy!

Everybody cheered when George finished pissing on the grave. There were some more eggs and rotten apples thrown as the remaining Weasley twin pulled up his trousers, his facial expression flickering between a raged one and a smug look, and then finally settling back down to a stricken look as tears welled in his eyes.

"Go Weasley!" someone in the crowd screamed as George give the tombstone one last kick before walking away, somewhat satisfied. Mrs. Weasley immediately started to scold him when he rejoined the family.

Harry stood beside Ginny as she laughed with delight and triumph, pumping her fists into the air. "I can totally see why you'd want this funeral, Harry," she said to him, grinning like a child presented with all sweets of the world. "This is so much fun! Like he used to terrify us and torture us before, we can get our revenge when he's dead. Do you think he ever imagined what would happen to him after he died?" Then she shook her head and answered her own question. "Of course not, You-Know-Who thought he'd live forever."

A hand clasped Harry's shoulder, startling him. "Great party, mate!" Ron yelled, taking another gulp from his bottle of Butterbeer before Hermione snatched it away.

All around him, people treated it as if it was a festival. There were music going on, foods were served. The participants of the Hogwarts battle partied like wild animals. Fireworks brightened the sky every few seconds. This was Voldemort's funeral.

A few days back, Harry defeated his eternal enemy, the snake who terrorized the wizarding people of Britain for thirty-something years, the same Dark Lord who murdered his parents and left him orphaned. Ron had thought he'd gone insane, Hermione frowned at him, but understood. Voldemort was dead, and the dead, no matter what they've done in their life, deserve a peaceful send away when they pass on to Afterlife.

Not a party. The purpose of this funeral was completely destroyed.

"Let's go over to the food table. They've got the house elves' best fried chicken, I saw it just a moment ago," Ginny begged, tugging at his sleeve. "Harry, please!"

He looked at her. "No, Ginny-"

"Aw," she pouted, "you're no fun. This is the party of his-"

"Ginny, this is a funeral. This isn't what we're suppose to do during a funeral," he said, tired of getting into this argument again. He'd been saying the same thing to countless people. Countless people who wouldn't listen to him. "I set up this for those who respect the dead, not for party animals." If you're not going to show some respect, then don't come to it, he'd told everyone. It maybe Voldemort's funeral, but keep out if you have nothing good to show for.

His girlfriend gave him a weird look. "He murdered so many innocent people, Harry. He killed your parents. Somebody like him doesn't deserve peace in death. Now come on."

"No."

"Harry James Potter, if you love me-"

"Ginny, shut up. Don't use that on me."

She stared at him, startled, and let go of his hand. "Get over the whole thing, will you? I'm going to celebrate like a proper winner would."

And that too, that had changed. Their relationship changed so much within the couple of day they'd been together. He thought he knew her. He thought she was a person of compassion- and she was, only not the kind of compassion he thought he'd seen in her. She cared for people she knew and loved, and nobody else. He thought she was smart, and again, it wasn't the kind of brain he used to see in her before; that part was his fault too, he didn't observe carefully enough. He found out that, despite the fact that she was Ginny Weasley, a girl he'd knew for year, he didn't know her as well as he thought he did.

Now staring at her red hair, Harry did not feel the kind of longing and love he felt before the battle.

Strangely, that didn't make him sad at all.

The last of the fireworks exploded in the dark night sky.

Draco Malfoy felt out of place at this so-call "funeral", which was just another of Potter's scheme to have a party. His lips curled into a sneer as he lined his cup of Firewhiskey to his mouth and took a giant gulp of the burning liquid. Bloody Gryffindors, no respect for the dead.

Speaking of the dead...

Voldemort.

"Where's your Dark Lord now, Father?" he muttered into the night air as a firefly danced around his head. Draco ignored all the chaotic noise around him and stared up at the half moon, this time smirking. "Where is he now? 'Following the Dark Lord, Draco, he will bring true blood back to its place. He will put Mudbloods and their lot back to where they belong. He will show the world the power of the Dark.'"

He paused, feeling slightly weird to be quoting his father to such accuracy. "I need to lay off the beer." And he settled the half empty cup on the near by table, and quietly slithered away before any bloody Gryffindors looking for a fight might decide him to be an easy target.

This wasn't a funeral at all.

No respect for the dead, disgusting. This is why Mudblood should be rid of. Look at you, Granger, you're as drunk as a pig. And you, you blood-traitors, you Weasleys! No wonder your family is so poor, look at how much of a bloody rag are you lot. See your little Weaslette over there? Dancing like a whore in the middle of the crowd, rubbing her behind in every male's face she sees! Repulsive, I wouldn't want to have her even if you pay me. And oh yes, we can't forget about the mastermind of this "funeral" either. Potter, Potter you-

He stopped and stared.

"Malfoy?"

Draco pursed his lips. "Why aren't you out there partying, Scarface?" The last word was snarled. "Is the high and mighty Harry Potter too good for his friend?"

Potter frowned and shot him the same look he'd gave to Draco every day during breakfast- an expression of pure hatred and annoyance. Draco did enjoy that face very much. It made Potter's face more interesting. "I have dignity to not laugh and party at a funeral, Malfoy. I did want this to go the way a proper one should go. It's certainly not my fault that they saw my intention in a completely different direction."

"Ah," Draco merely said, not knowing what was more suitable to say at the moment. "I see."

"You better 'see', Malfoy. And you better shut up around me. The last thing I need this evening is to hear your mockery; I've got enough things to be angry about right now. Do not push me."

Draco pushed him.

It was a risky move with all the Potter-supporters here, but luckily no one paid heed to them. The Golden boy himself didn't fall either, he managed to grab a nearby tree trunk for support.

"What are you going to do now that I pushed you?" he said with a smirk, and quickly changed that to a sneer. The smirk would look to cheerful and playful, and he wasn't about to look like that around someone who hated him like Potter.

His fist collided with Malfoy's nose before his brain could process what had just happened. The people nearest to them froze as a crunch of bone was heard. They stared, confused at what Harry did, then spot the crouching Malfoy, holding a bloody nose and whimpering. Pretty soon, everyone else stopped what they were doing and rushed over to speculate as well.

"Why is Malfoy here?" Harry heard someone say. The tone of that sentence wasn't pleasant.

The blond remained in the half kneeling position, as if petrified. The hand that wasn't gripping his bloody nose was shaking from what Harry could see.

I didn't mean to...

"All right!" Seamus Finnegan suddenly screamed with a drunken grin, breaking the silence as he eyed the blond on the ground as if he was a lowly bug beneath his shoe. "Final game of the night: Kick a Death Eater!"

The crowd cheered behind him.

On the ground, Malfoy gave a cry of despair and tried to get up, his feet already working furiously on trying to run away. Seamus reached out and grabbed him by the collar before he could move anymore. "Great suggestion, Harry," he slurred and kneed Malfoy in the stomach. They roared with approval.

"No, Seamus-"

"Come on, Harry, give the Ferret-face a kick!" Ron urged. His sleeves were already rolled up, as if he was waiting Harry to be done with his turn of "fun" so he could take his drunken anger out on the former Death Eater as well.

"Ron, stop that-"

"Al'ight mate, you won't do it? Give that little ferret to me and-"

Harry punched him in the nose, grabbed Malfoy and Apparated away.

It took him three tries to get Malfoy's nose straight and sharp like the way it was before his punch. The first try gave the blond a square nose, which resulted in a fit of laughter from Harry and an enraged Malfoy with swinging arms that were trying to hit him. The second try gave Malfoy an even bloodier nose, which resulted in Harry having to make a note to himself about buying a new bed sheet.

He had Apparated them into his empty dorm room. The wards were currently down, and Harry was thankful for that; he wouldn't know where else to go to.

"Don't move," Harry snapped again, cupped Malfoy chin and forced the face to turn towards him. He turned the face, observing it from angle to angle to make sure he did heal it correctly. Then he spelled the blood face clean and released the charm he used to hold Malfoy in place. "You're an idiot for being out there in the first place because you know perfectly well how people feel about you and your...lot. So you expect to be out there without being attacked?"

The blond gave him a glacial look. "I was thirsty and I wanted fresh air."

"Someone could have been drunk enough to actually kill you," Harry pointed out, wondering to himself why the hell was he even lecturing his biggest school rival about endangerment of self's life in the first place.

"Never thought you would care, Potter. After what you've done to my father, I didn't think you'd give a shit about what happened to me."

"I don't like people dying," was all he could come up with.

"By that display, I thought different." Malfoy snorted.

No word came out of Harry's mouth as the blond glared at him up and down before turning away to glare at the room, as if the amount of red and gold offended him. He then got up.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm not allow to leave now?" Malfoy mocked. "I'm going back to the dungeon to weep and feel sorry for myself in a dark corner. Care to join me, Potter?" The satire in his offering did not escape Harry's notice.

He lifted his head and met those grey eyes. "Why not?" he answered, ignoring all that.

The other boy blinked, surprised, then scoffed at him before walking away.

Smirking and quite pleased with the reaction he brought out of Malfoy, Harry followed the blond out of the Gryffindor Common room. On the way out, he listened to the acid remarks made about the furnitures and color theme, and despite the fact that he was bickering with the prick, he couldn't help but smiled a little.

Harry openly snickered.

"This?" He waved a hand, gesturing at his surrounding. "And this is any better because?"

All around them water dripped. It dripped from cracks in the ceiling, cracks wide enough that Harry could actually see water pipes. It dripped from the wall, where he could see even more cracks and water pipes. Puddles gathered on the floor. Here and there were some upside down and/or broken chairs. In fact, everything was either broken or wet save for a couch.

"This is better because this room has been touched by me and fellow Purebloods," Malfoy said proudly. Harry could still hear the teasing in his voice however snobbish and arrogant he intended to sound.

"I see..." Harry rolled his eyes. "Now, do tell me the location of this 'dark corner' you were speaking of?"

Malfoy raised a platinum eyebrow. "Really, Potter."

"Really what?"

"Never mind," came the reply seconds later. "Why the hell did you follow me anyway?"

"Oh, now you ask."

Malfoy sighed. "You know, there are people waiting outside for you to join them, and you're here, standing in my Common room-" "It's not yours-" "It's mine now that everybody else in my house left Hogwarts save for Blaise, who is lying on a bed in the hospital wing. Besides, don't try to change the subject." He gave Harry a pointy look.

Harry shrugged back and plopped himself onto the good couch, resulting in a disapproving yelp from the Slytherin, who rushed over and sat down as well, all the while trying to push Harry off.

"This is the only piece of furniture dry and clean and stable enough in this dungeon for me sleep on, so get your golden arse off of it and go back to your own bed in your repulsive excuse for a tower!" he cried, tugging at Harry's robe. The Boy-Who-Lived grinned wider and wider as the protests continued. The grin made Malfoy madder with each moment passing. "This is not funny, Potter! I don't want any Gryffindor germs on it."

Harry snuggled against the couch and let out a peaceful sigh.

"Get out!"

"I don't want to."

"You have to!"

"No."

"This is my Common room and I demand you to get your arse out!"

"No."

"I really don't want to deal with you right now. What do you want? A thank you? Fine, I'll send you a card tomorrow, all right? Are you happy now? Get out, get out!"

Harry closed his eyes and let out a snore, butterflies flew in his stomach gleefully as Malfoy pulled at his clothes and arm, shouting nonsenses at him and threatening hexes and physical pain.

"But this is comfortable," Harry whined. "I don't want to leave."

"You must!"

"Oh shut up, Malfoy, and lie down with me. The couch has enough room for two."

The indeed shut the Slytherin right up. Silence passed on for minutes before Harry decided that something was wrong and opened his eyes to check on the other boy. "What's wrong?"

Malfoy was staring at him with folded arms. "I'm not a bloody ponce," he growled.

"I never say you-" He stopped and thought about what he had said, and blushed. "Wow, that was quite a queer request I asked, wasn't it?"

"So," began the blond. "You have to leave, because there is no way I'm sleeping besides you, not even if someone give me a million galleons and bribe me with a life-time supply of Butterbeers and Chocolate Frogs."

Harry frowned. He couldn't go back to the Gryffindor tower now. There would be too many people there waiting for him whom he didn't want to see right now; a drunken Ron, a possibly drunken Hermione, Dean, Seamus, Neville, all drunk and pissed, if they could still remember what had happened outside with him and Malfoy. Or if they did not remember, they'd try to make him drink, and he wasn't in the mood for a hangover the next day. And of course, there will be Ginny. He didn't want to see her. He didn't feel like kissing her or holding her close like he had wanted to before the war. He hadn't wanted to kiss or hold her for... How long had it been? Days?

"Then I'll just have to bribe you with two million galleons and a lifetime supply of Firewhiskey to go with the other free items."

"Quit it, Potter, you're being a nuisance." Another shove.

Harry remained unmoved even as Malfoy punched him hard on the arm. He inwardly winced as he felt the impact, but managed to retain his howl of pain. The other boy growled, a sound reminded Harry very much of a lion. He giggled and smiled.

"What's so funny?! Do you think you're funny, Potter? Do you?! Well I don't, so get the fuck out of here before I do something both of us will regret!"

This is annoying, Harry thought and sat up and met Malfoy's stormy, raging grey eyes which looked almost like pools of silver mercury then. They stared at each other, Malfoy with the same glare, and him a calm look that seemed to be making the blond even more angry. A pale finger pointed at the closed portrait of the Slytherin dorm room, indicating for him to get out.

"Now."

"All right." Harry shrugged, and leaned it.

He was sure that Malfoy had begun screaming when their lips touched, but the sound was muted when he pushed the blond back, intending to snog the life out of Malfoy if it meant for him to just shut the fuck up and let Harry sleep there on the couch for the night. Then, the thought of that intention disappeared as he really began to snog the life out the blond.

Metaphorically, of course.

Harry never remembered Ginny's lips to be this soft or this sensitive. When he'd kiss her, she would stay silent, making only occasional moans that sounded almost fake to his ears. But she was a great kisser; she had experiences after all.

Harry made a chocking noise as Malfoy pounded a fist against his back lamely. He responded by pulling a centimeter away and sticking out his tongue to lick the red lips like a dog, grinning all the while before pressing his mouth down again. Harry sucked at the swollen bottom lip like it was a piece of candy- it tasted like one to him- and Malfoy grunted in reply and opened his mouth, giving Harry access. The mouth tasted like Butterbeer and cool mints.

I wonder if he'd eaten some Every Flavor beans before going to the funeral, Harry wondered as he dipped his tongue inside and rubbed it gently against the blond's.

He finally left delicious mouth and kissed Malfoy's chin.

"May I stay?" he purred, grinding their hips together and drawing a gasp from the Slytherin.

"No- Ah!"

Harry ground down again, feeling himself getting harder and harder as he thrust himself against Malfoy for a few seconds, conjuring up an arousal as well for the blond.

"I'm- I'm not queer- Ooh...Fuck yes..."

A yelp. "Po- Potter, what have you done with my clothes- Mmph!"

The protesting soon stopped as Harry continued to grind his leaking cock against Malfoy's rhythmically, pressing down onto the body he had pinned beneath him. They moaned into each other's mouth, lost in another world. He forgot about Ginny; the only person's name he managed to recall was the name of the boy underneath him, who was withering and squirming and making this even more awkward as he kept on making the most delicious noises ever while trying to find a proper way to respond to Harry's touches.

Harry lost the ability of speech when he felt the blond arching up, creating even more friction and heat. He was pretty sure that he called out Malfoy's name when they pulled away from each other's lips, but he couldn't be sure, as his ears were too filled with the sweet voice of Malfoy moaning his name as they both came at the same time.

Both of their bodies went limp when they finished orgasming. Harry collapsed on top of Malfoy like dead weight, receiving a groan of annoyance and a push.

"I guess I will have to stay with you now, won't I?" he chided smugly, groping around the couch for his wand and located it on the ground in his robe pocket. Malfoy, meanwhile, was pouting and blushing at the same time, looking mightily ridiculous and adorable.

Strange, he'd never thought of another boy as attractive. But let's put that past me for the night, shall we?

"You know I still want you to leave, right?" Malfoy grumbled and attempt an aristocratic sneer, but failed. "It's so stuffy here with you, and we're sticky and I don't want to get up to take a shower now."

Harry kissed the top of his forehead and waved his wand in circles twice, hoping that he remembered the right incantation.

"What are you doing, Scarhead?" Malfoy asked, frowning.

"I'm trying to turn this into a bed. You said it's too stuffy here, and I agree," he answered. "Besides, we can't have real sex comfortably on a couch."

"Potter, I refuse to be fucked by you! And I still haven't changed my mind. Get. Out. Of. My. Common. Room!"

Harry kissed him instead.

"You know you have a girlfriend, don't you, Potter?"

The Golden Boy started to nuzzle his neck. "Not anymore. I have a feeling that she's cheating on me at the moment anyway. With the way she was dancing, it'd surprise me that some horny straight bloke isn't fucking her right now." He smirked at Malfoy. "But I just discovered something: I'm gay, and therefore-"

"Well I'm not!" Malfoy interrupted.

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not!"

"You are the gayest ponce I've met."

"Whatever, Potter-"

"Now just let me transform this couch so I can prove it to you."

"Don't-"

But it was too late. Harry muttered the spell and watched as sparkes flew from his wand tip, engulfing the couch in a brilliant white light. He watched for a while, impressed with himself as the light shifted and shaped beneath him and Malfoy- the blond was gaping with horror for some reason.

"You idiot! This is Hogwarts' furniture! If they could be transformed, don't you think I would've done so already!" he screamed.

Harry's confusion was resolved when the light finally faded away, and took the couch with it.

The two boys, naked, landed on the floor, covered by only their robes. Harry looked down at the floor with shock, and Malfoy looked at him with pure anger. He turned his gaze up at the blond, and offered the only helpful word that came to his mind, "Oops?"

"Get out!"

Harry then did the only thing he could do; he kissed Malfoy, and said to the blond, "Let's fuck on the floor."