This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

"We could study," Hermione offered lamely, earning jeers from the dozen or so classmates around her.

"No books," Harry said, rubbing his face tiredly.

"We could sing," Lavender said with a bright smile. "My cousin's a Muggle, and she does this thing called Karaoke. We could –"

"No wireless," Neville broke in.

"No talent, either," Draco sneered.

She sighed, crossing her arms and slumping back onto the squishy couch Hermione had managed to Transfigure from the uncomfortable classroom furniture they'd been left with.

"It's really unfair," Pansy whined, stopping when the rest of the room glared at her. "Well, it is."

Hermione shook her head ruefully, looking up from her current task of Transfiguring bits of paper into wooden blocks. Blaise and Neville were building a castle of some sort, heaps of the blocks already stacked precariously high.

"It's no more than we deserve," she said primly, her cheeks heating as she recalled McGonagall's stern reprimand earlier in the evening. It really had been poor judgment, especially from the Head Girl.

It was New Year's Eve, and the unlikely group of seventh years from all four Houses had planned to sneak away to the Room of Requirement with several bottles of Ogden's Finest and a keg of Muggle beer Seamus had somehow managed to smuggle in. Most of the school was away for the hols, but quite a few of the returning seventh years had stayed – some because they didn't have anywhere else to go and others because they simply didn't want to go home.

Harry and Hermione had both been invited to the Burrow, of course, but had chosen not to go. Things between Harry and Ron were a bit strained, since he'd failed to rekindle his relationship with Ginny after the war. She was happily dating Dean – who had gone with them to the Burrow – but that didn't matter to Ron, who thought Harry had dealt their family some sort of insult. Hermione had stayed because Gin had tipped her off to Ron's plan to propose on New Year's Eve, a direct conflict with Hermione's plan to break up with him for good at the start of term.

"We didn't actually do anything wrong," Pansy continued, her tone petulant. "Nothing that merited this kind of treatment, at least."

It was true. The Headmistress had intercepted them before they reached their destination, divesting them of the contraband alcohol. Instead of letting them return to their dorms, however, she'd decided to punish them with an immediate detention. Which is how they found themselves counting down the minutes to the new year locked in an old classroom, with nothing but Hermione's Transfigured blocks to entertain them.

"Did nothing wrong? Possession of alcohol on Hogwarts grounds is grounds for expulsion," a silky voice drawled from the corner, dripping with menace. "Were I still Headmaster, you sniveling children would find yourselves immediately dismissed, which is what you deserve."

"Severus, you and I both know you'd have done no such thing," Dumbledore chimed in, his eyes twinkling, even in the portrait. "Minerva was quite fair in her punishment. These young ladies and gentlemen are hardly children, but they still have to abide by school rules. A night in detention may well remind them of that."

Harry groaned, sinking further into his seat. He hadn't bothered to transfigure the desk into something more comfortable, and his back ached from hours spent slouched on the hard, unforgiving wood.

"Being stuck here isn't the punishment," he said, letting his head fall forward into the cradle of his arms. "It's listening to you two bicker that's the real detention."

Snape and Dumbledore had indeed been arguing for the last two hours, ever since the Headmistress had marched, triumphant, into the room Levitating the portraits behind her. She'd stuck them to the walls, using some sort of Sticking Charm – they'd tried to counter it, but it hadn't worked – and instructed everyone to enjoy their evening. The two former Headmasters were their chaperones for the detention, since McGonagall and all the other professors were having a party themselves.

"Probably drinking our Firewhisky," Draco muttered, Conjuring a flock of miniature dragons to attack the butterflies Luna had just set loose in the room.

"Very likely, my dear boy," Dumbledore said, his voice heavy with amusement.

"Idiots, the lot of them," Severus huffed, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "Not one of them can brew a usable Hangover Potion. Probably using the rot Mathias sells at the apothecary in Hogsmeade. Never made it into my N.E.W.T. class, but thinks he's qualified to brew and sell potions."

"Now, Severus –"

"Don't you 'now Severus' me, you barmy old coot!"


Everyone – the girls gossiping on the sofa, the boys building the ramshackle castle, the portraits, even the dragons and butterflies – fell silent at Harry's roar.

"Just, enough. We're here for the foreseeable future. If the professors are right, it's possible no one will come for us until the morning. We should Transfigure some beds and just go to sleep," he said, sighing heavily.

"Who appointed you lord and master, Potter?" Draco spat, his eyes flashing as he watched the Gryffindor heave himself up from his desk.

Harry met his gaze evenly, fighting a smirk when he saw the blond's cheeks begin to pink under his scrutiny.

"No one did. It was just a suggestion, but I think it was a good one."

Harry leveled his wand at the desk, morphing it into a small but comfortable-looking bed. He whipped his jumper off over his head, Transfiguring it into a blanket. Everyone watched as the dark-haired wizard toed his shoes off and slipped off his belt. They'd all dressed casually for the party – most in jumpers, denims and trainers. A majority of the girls, and a few of the boys, wondered what else the Boy Who Lived was going to shed before settling in to sleep.

"Oh, sod off," he muttered, aware of their gazes as he climbed into the make-shift bed.

"Harry's right," Hermione said, pursing her lips when Theo cut her off.

"Of course he's right, he's the Savior of the Wizarding World," he mocked, wrinkling his nose to show his distaste for the words.

"Stuff it, Nott!" Seamus growled, narrowing his eyes at the Slytherin.

"As I was saying," Hermione continued, her expression severe, "Harry's right. We should sort out our sleeping arrangements just in case the Headmistress doesn't come back tonight."

She looked at Harry, frowning.

"But we can't just go to sleep – it's not even midnight! Our plans may have been derailed, but we may as well still do something fun, since we're all here together."

"Well said, well said," Dumbledore praised, earning himself matching scowls from Snape and Harry.

Everyone flinched when Harry raised his wand, moving the piece of holly in a complicated pattern. Even Dumbledore looked surprised when the air crackled as wards framed the portraits, effectively Silencing them. Harry watched as Snape's mouth moved, sighing in relief when no sound escaped.

"Brilliant!" Blaise crowed, clapping.

Draco's eyes narrowed as he watched the Gryffindor, who was now sitting on the side of the bed, his feet still on the floor.

"Potter," he said, his tone sharp. "If you can manage that, then surely you could unlock that door."

Harry nodded, tucking his wand back into his wrist holster.

"What good would that do, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, her hands on her hips. She didn't exactly approve of what Harry had just done, but she had to admit it was a welcome relief. "If we left, McGonagall would just put us back in detention again later."

Draco shrugged, sighing as he Transfigured his own desk into a bed right next to Harry's. Their eyes met briefly, but Draco merely smirked. The blond stripped down to his T-shirt, his cashmere jumper becoming and ultra-soft blanket that he draped over the small bed.

"What?" he asked when the rest of the room just gaped. "Granger was right. Potter had a good idea."

Everyone focused on Transfiguring their own beds, though Hermione and Harry had to help Hannah, who hadn't achieved a high enough score on her Transfiguration O.W.L. to advance in the class. Most went with a simple style like Harry's, though Luna managed to make herself a hulking four-poster bed with shimmery hangings.

"It's still twenty minutes to midnight," Theo said, reclining on his green and silver blankets, his arms behind his head.

"We could play a game," Lavender suggested, sitting cross-legged on her own pink monstrosity of a bed.

"What, Truth or Dare?" Pansy smirked, rolling her eyes. "Or no, I know, I Never? Really, Brown."

"What?" Lavender whined, defensive. She thought they were perfectly acceptable games.

"A Slytherin would never play either of those games in a roomful of Gryffindors unless alcohol was involved," Harry said, his voice wry.

"And how would you know that?" Blaise asked, cocking his head toward the bare-chested dark-haired wizard, who was propped up on some pillows he'd Transfigured from his T-shirt.

Harry smirked, shaking his head.

"Slytherins need to be in control of the situation at all times. You'd never willingly enter into something that required a Truth spell – like Truth or Dare or I Never – without some sort of incentive or way to get the upper hand. Alcohol would be an easy way to lower the Gryffindors' inhibitions, and get them to open up."

"It would also lower the Slytherins' inhibitions," Hermione pointed out from her perch on her bed, easily the most elaborate and comfortable one in the room, its wrought iron headboard more impressive than even Luna's efforts.

"Have you ever seen a drunk Slytherin?" Harry shot back, his eyebrows raised. He looked around the room, registering the blank looks on the Gryffindors' faces. "No, you haven't. Slytherins don't get drunk in front of people who aren't in their House."

Draco gave him an appraising look, mirrored by the rest of the Slytherins in the room. Hermione just looked confused, her brow furrowed as she considered Harry's words.

"But how would you know that, Harry?" she asked, glancing over at him.

Harry just shrugged, running a hand through his hair. It badly needed a cut – it was becoming a hindrance. "Just common sense."

"And what, Gryffindors don't have common sense?" Seamus asked, his tone offended.

"We do, we're just more trusting than the Slytherins," Neville cut in, earning himself a grateful wink from Harry.

The Slytherins continued their frank appraisal of Harry, adding Neville in for good measure, while the Gryffindors mulled this over.

"We could share our New Years' resolutions," Hermione said suddenly, her eyes brightening at the idea.

Seamus groaned. "That sounds an awful lot like your homework idea, Hermione."

She laughed, sitting up from her sprawl across her mattress.

"No, really. It's almost midnight. It's the perfect time for it."

She looked around, unsurprised that no one volunteered.

"Oh, come on. I, Hermione Granger, resolve to have a bit more fun in the New Year."

Lavender's bed was next to hers, and the girl chewed her lip, considering her options.

"I, Lavender Brown, resolve to date more in the New Year."

Hermione shot her an incredulous look, unsure of how the notorious flirt could waste even more time in the coming year on boys.

"I, Susan Bones, resolve to pass my N.E.W.T.s in the New Year."

"I, Luna Lovegood, resolve to return to Sweden to continue my hunt for the elusive Crumple-Horned Snorkack in the New Year."

Luna ignored the snickers, her face completely serious. Neville broke in next, hoping to divert attention away from their loyal, but harebrained, friend.

"I, Neville Longbottom, resolve to be more assertive in the New Year."

"Good on you, Nev," Harry said, grinning at him from across the room.

"I, Seamus Finnigan, resolve to be more romantic in the New Year."

Susan blushed, drawing several considering looks from those who noticed.

"I, Hannah Abbott, resolve to practice Transfiguration in the new year, even though I'm not in the class."

"I, Pansy Parkinson, resolve to be nicer to the other Houses in the New Year."

Pansy looked around, glaring at the Slytherin boys who rolled their eyes at her.

"What? It wouldn't kill you to do the same, you know," she huffed, nodding in thanks when Hermione and Susan agreed.

"I, Blaise Zabini, resolve to have fewer detentions in the New Year."

"I, Draco Malfoy, resolve to kick Potter's arse in Quidditch in the New Year."

Everyone laughed, including Harry. He stared at Draco a moment longer than everyone else, looking away as he spoke.

"I, Harry Potter, resolve to keep fewer secrets in the New Year."

Hermione shot Harry a funny look, clearly worried about his resolution. It was true that he'd kept a lot of secrets during the war, but what was he hiding now?

"I, Theodore Nott, resolve to spend more time studying so I am prepared for my N.E.W.T.s in the New Year."

The room fell silent, everyone thinking about their own plans and goals for the new year. Most of them jumped when the Alarm spell Theo had set buzzed, indicating the arrival of midnight. Their short celebration was subdued, likely because they were all sober, and everyone quieted down fairly quickly, returning to their own beds.

"Alright, then?" Neville asked, looking around before casting Nox on the few torches left burning in the room.

"Best to sleep," Theo agreed, pulling back his House-colored bed coverings and kicking off his shoes. "The sooner we do, the sooner McGonagall comes back to let us out in the morning."

Harry woke, sweaty and disoriented. He was far hotter than he should have been, curled under the thin blanket he had managed to Transfigure out of this year's Weasley jumper. He stretched, his muscles tight from his uncomfortable position, and immediately froze when his hand encountered something solid and warm.

What the hell? he wondered, shifting so he could peer into the darkness. Blond hair glistened on his make-shift pillow, Draco's warm body curled around his on the tiny bed. The blond radiated heat as well, the two of them overheated from sharing such a small space covered by the blankets they'd both Transfigured.

"Draco?" Harry whispered, his lips tickling against the shell of the Slytherin's ear. The blond slept like the dead, and Harry was worried he might wake the others if he pitched his voice any louder. He gripped Draco's shoulder, the feel of his overly warm skin sending a shiver of arousal through him. "Draco."

"Mmm?" Draco answered, curling tighter into Harry's prone body. His arm came around, wrapping around Harry's shoulders.

"Damn it, Draco!" Harry hissed, his fingers digging into the soft skin of Draco's back.

Draco's eyes shot open, blinking quickly to figure out what was going on. He smiled sleepily when he saw Harry's face just centimeters from his, leaning up and placing a soft kiss against Harry's lips.


Harry's lips curved into an involuntary smile, his fingers absently caressing the exposed skin of Draco's back, soothing the marks he had made.

"What're you doing in my bed?" Harry asked, his fingertips tracing a random pattern against the silky skin.

"Helping you with your resolution," Draco answered, shifting so he had easy access to Harry's mouth again, claiming it in a more heated kiss.

Harry groaned, forgetting his protest as Draco ground against his hip, his hard cock rubbing along his leg. All thoughts fled as Draco's hand ghosted along Harry's firm belly, following the trail of coarse dark hair down to the waistband of his denims.

It was insane, and Harry knew it. Their classmates were scattered through the room, which was small enough it offered no privacy at all. He blinked in the darkness, straining to listen. He heard nothing but a few rustles as some of the others turned restlessly in their beds, and the familiar sound of Seamus breathing steadily, deep asleep already.

"We can't," Harry said, pushing Draco's questing fingers away from his now-unbuttoned denims.

Draco studied him, his expression neutral as he considered their options. Apparently deciding to brush Harry's concerns aside, he leaned in again, forcing Harry back on the bed as he straddled him, their mouths joined in a fiery battle of tongues and teeth.

It was Draco's turn to moan when Harry's muscled thigh rose, purposefully rubbing against the blond's crotch. His breathing quickened at the sensation, desire rippling through him. He opened his eyes, startled to find Harry's were already open. The intimate link – grey eyes locked on green, even as their tongues were entwined and their bodies rutting roughly against each other – made Harry shudder and pause, his breath catching before he deepened the kiss.

Between the surprise of waking up to find Draco in his bed and the excitement of knowing any number of their friends could wake up and catch them at any moment, neither Draco nor Harry was able to last long. Draco's pale, slender hand found its way past Harry's opened waistband, his fingers snaking through the opening in his boxers and wrapping around Harry's rock-hard cock.

"Shit," Harry hissed, his body tensing as he came hard, not the slightest bit embarrassed that a few quick strokes had finished him off.

Draco's frenzied thrusts against Harry's thigh sped up, and Harry watched, enthralled, as the blond bit his lip, his eyes shut tightly, trying to stay silent as he rode the waves of his own orgasm. The dark-haired boy leaned up, capturing Draco's mouth in a scorching kiss, swallowing his low groans and gasps.

They both froze when something moved across the room, Draco's eyes shooting open as they waited to see what would happen next, cursing himself for not casting a Silencing spell when he'd climbed into Harry's bed. Harry heard whispers, but they didn't seem directed at them. A muffled moan came next, and the boys relaxed. Whoever was awake was busy enough not to notice them.

Draco rolled to the side, grimacing as the motion reminded him of the come cooling in his boxers. Harry stifled a giggle, grabbing his wand and casting a nonverbal Cleaning charm over both of them. His tanned fingers nimbly refastened the button on his denims, smoothing the fabric so what they'd been up to wasn't immediately evident.

Inspired, Draco grabbed his wand, smirking when Harry arched an eyebrow at the presumptuous movement. He cast a modified Silencing charm, enveloping Harry's bed with wards that kept their voices muffled while allowing noise from outside in.

"Public sex was my resolution?" Harry whispered as soon as the spell shimmered into effect , continuing his earlier line of questioning.

"Your resolution not to keep secrets."

Harry's mouth fell open at Draco's words, their meaning sinking into his tired brain. They'd been dating for months, a secret from even their closest friends. Harry hadn't expected this when he made his resolution, he'd actually been referring to finally coming out of the closet and letting his friends know he was gay. He'd never even imagined Draco would want to go public with their relationship.

"What? Seriously?"

Draco grinned, and Harry's blood heated at the sight. The blond flipped, pinning Harry to the bed and nibbling on his neck. Harry groaned, his arms falling to his sides.

"Seriously. Isn't this what you meant?" Draco asked between kisses, his tongue tracing Harry's jaw.

"No," Harry whispered, arching as Draco's sharp teeth nipped at the thin skin over Harry's collar bone.

Draco sat back, his face suddenly somber. "What did you mean, then?"

Harry pushed himself up on his elbows, trying to get closer to the blond. The room was dark, but he'd seen the hurt flash through Draco's grey eyes at his answer.

"Just that I was going to come out to my friends this year. It's not that – I mean, I don't –" Harry groaned in frustration, the right words deserting him. He sat up fully, their thighs brushing on the small bed. "I don't mind."

Draco studied him for a moment, settling into his kneeling position. "You don't mind."

Harry could have yelled in frustration – he was mucking this up, and knowing Draco, he wouldn't be given another chance to make it right. He dragged a hand through his hair, frantically trying to find the words to express what he meant.

"I don't mind telling everyone about us," he said slowly, choosing his words with care. "I just never thought you'd want to. "

Draco stared dumbly at him, his face curiously blank.

"What exactly is this?"

Harry watched him, brow furrowed. His grey eyes were dark, but no other sign of any emotion flitted across his calm face. The Gryffindor knew it was an act – he knew Draco well enough to recognize the Malfoy mask when he saw it.


Draco faltered a moment, nodding slowly.

"We're – I don't know. Boyfriends sounds so silly, yeah? And partners, that makes it sound like we're Aurors or something."

Draco's shoulders had relaxed a fraction, his eyes warming slightly, his expression still guarded. "Lovers?"

Harry bit his lip, considering. They were, but that didn't seem to have the right connotation.

"Yes, I suppose. I was thinking more along the lines of –" he blushed, looking down at the Transfigured bed coverings, " – in love."

Draco remained silent, and Harry looked up, gathering his courage.

"I love you, Draco."

The blond smiled almost shyly, his face open as he twined his fingers with Harry's, squeezing his hand.

"I love you, too."

Harry leaned in for a kiss, both of them losing their balance and collapsing in an ungainly heap on the bed when the lights suddenly flared to life.

"What is going on in here?" McGonagall cried, surveying the make-shift dormitory with horror.

Harry struggled to sit up, his eyes panicked as he watched Draco smoothly roll off the bed and hop to his own. No one noticed them, since all eyes were on another bed across the room. A shirtless Pansy screamed, and Neville grabbed the blanket, doing his best to shield her from view while not exposing himself, either.

"Fifty points from Slytherin and Gryffindor," she said, closing her eyes as the students scrambled for cover. "Parkinson and Longbottom, two weeks of detention with Mr. Filch at the start of the new term."

No one argued, flushed with embarrassment and horror at being caught out by the Headmistress.

"You will all return to your dormitories immediately," she continued, her slowly opening her eyes to make sure her orders were being followed.

She paused, surveying the Transfigured beds. Her lips quirked as she noticed the strong Silencing wards around the portraits, and the horrified expression on Snape's face.

"Ten points to Ravenclaw for excellent Transfiguration, Miss Lovegood," she said, her eyes narrowing as she continued her survey of the room. "Where are Miss Granger and Mr. Nott?"

A mortified squeak answered her, and Hermione's disheveled hair became visible over the side of Theo's bed. The tall Slytherin followed her, bracing himself against the mattress as he pulled her to her feet from their place on the floor.

"Having more fun already, are you?" Harry asked, his eyes wide as he watched her struggle to stand, her lips swollen and her shirt unbuttoned.

Hermione glared at him, throwing another hard look at Lavender, who was whispering furiously with Hannah, gesturing wildly toward Hermione and Theo.

Luna giggled, breaking the tension and reminding the Headmistress of her purpose.

"Twenty-five points from Gryffindor and Slytherin," McGonagall said, her tone exasperated. She flicked a glance toward Hermione's perfect bed with a tight smile. "Ten points to Gryffindor for a well-managed bed."

She frowned at the lot of them again, shaking her head.

"Off you get, now!" she said, her voice rising with irritation as the students remained in their places. At her stern admonishment, they quickly set about righting the room, ending the spells on their make-shift beds and gathering up whatever clothing they had shed.

Draco sent Harry a searching look before both boys cancelled the spells, quickly donning their T-shirts and jumpers. Harry pushed his feet into his shoes, hastening across the room. McGonagall still stood in the doorway, her arms crossed tightly.


He paused, cringing. She'd seen Draco in his bed, even if no one else had. He was sure of it.

"I assume you were the one to cast the wards on the paintings?" she asked, her voice curiously light. Harry flinched – he'd forgotten that.

"Yes, Headmistress," he said, bracing himself to lose even more points.

She studied him with an inscrutable look for a few more moments, nodding as she waved her wand to cancel the Sticking Spell. He noticed she didn't disturb the wards, which still surrounded the now-Levitating portraits.

"Fifty points to Gryffindor for finding a way to shut them up," she said, surprising Harry. "And twenty more if you teach me the spell."

The group passed through the portrait hole silently, the Fat Lady not even asking for the password from the motley crew of dejected-looking students. Luna was with them, since she'd been staying in Hermione and Lavender's room to avoid sleeping alone during the break.

"Harry?" Hermione whispered, stopping the dark-haired wizard before he could climb the stairs to his dormitory.

He nodded at Seamus and Neville, who went on ahead, turning to face her. She waited until the girls had gone as well, her voice still pitched low so no one coming back downstairs would hear them.

"About Theo –"

"Does Ron know?" Harry asked, careful to keep his voice calm.

"Yes and no," she admitted, biting her lip. "We've been on a bit of a break for a few weeks, and he knows I was planning to, er, see other boys."

"But he didn't know who?" Harry asked, his heart aching for both his friends.

"No," she said, her teeth leaving indentations on her lips as she chewed them nervously.

"Are you sure? I mean, I assume Gin told you –"

"About the proposal? Yeah. It's what started all this," she said, frowning. "He's a great friend, and I love him. Though this rot over you and Ginny has strained that."

She shook her head when Harry would have protested, knowing the dark-haired wizard wouldn't want to drive a wedge between them

"It's not that. It's just –" she broke off, shrugging helplessly. "I love him, but not – not like that. Not enough for that."

Harry nodded, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. She was obviously distraught, and the end of her relationship with Ron was sure to cause even more distress, especially when the volatile red-head got wind of her fooling around with a Slytherin.

He could empathize; it was likely the same reaction he'd get when his relationship with Draco surfaced. Not that he was on good terms with Ron as it was, he thought with a frown.

"Whatever makes you happy, Hermione," he said, giving her a squeeze before removing his arm.

She studied him, a strange gleam in her eyes as she swept her gaze over him.

"You, too, Harry," she said softly, shooting him a lopsided grin. "Secrets, eh?"

He looked down, blushing deep red when he realized he was wearing Draco's cashmere jumper, not his own. He knew it would cause even more problems for Draco, who must currently be sporting a Weasley jumper with the large letter H on it.

"Not anymore," he said, blowing out a breath as he raised his eyes to meet her gaze.

"Nope," she said, still smiling.