Partying with Slytherins #3
Title: Partying with Slytherins #3
Author:
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 365
Warning(s): It's still pre-slash
Summary: Harry's night will never be the same
A/N: This was written for the hogwarts365 prompt - What's next? Neville dancing the Macarena in a tutu?
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. This is for fun, not profit. :)
Like some invisible tractor beam, Malfoy’s plush, perfect, pouty mouth formed a slow, wicked smile. The kind of smile that wouldn’t look out of place in a bed. There was so much heat in the gray eyes locked on him that Harry felt like he was standing in front of a dragon.
For the first time ever, he realized just how dangerous Draco Malfoy could be.
God, he wanted to see more of it.
“What’s going on,” Ron bellowed, gesturing around the still as statues group and patted Harry on the shoulder. “You’d think someone just hexed your balls off, mate.”
Ron should not have mentioned balls. Especially when Harry was trying his hardest to forget a certain part of his body that had taken an interest in the proceedings. He snickered like a twelve year old at the play on words.
“Potter picked Pansy’s nose,” Malfoy murmured, his eyes never leaving Harry.
Pansy huffed and stomped her foot, causing her cleavage to jiggle. “That’s not what happened,” she countered and shot a devilish smile at Malfoy that was nothing less than feral. “Besides, that was after Creevey practically had his cock shoved up your arse.”
The pink that stained Malfoy’s cheeks was so endearing that Harry found his throat going dry. He licked his lips and the answering glint in Malfoy’s eyes made Harry feel like he was naked- the rest of the party melting away and leaving Harry exposed to the seductive stare of one Draco Malfoy.
“Then you said you wanted to lick Potter’s arse,” Bulstrode shouted like Malfoy needed to be sent to Azkaban for his crimes, successfully ending the spell that the blond and Harry had been under.
Harry cleared his throat and scuffed his shoe against the floor.
Ron looked like he was about to vomit. There was a strangled sort of sound in the back of his throat as his gaze flitted from Harry to Malfoy before he opened his mouth. “What’s next? Neville dancing the Macarena in a tutu?”
Suddenly there was a loud crash from the corner of the room, startling the crowd.
Little did they all know what kind of night they were in for.
Author:
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 365
Warning(s): It's still pre-slash
Summary: Harry's night will never be the same
A/N: This was written for the hogwarts365 prompt - What's next? Neville dancing the Macarena in a tutu?
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. This is for fun, not profit. :)
Like some invisible tractor beam, Malfoy’s plush, perfect, pouty mouth formed a slow, wicked smile. The kind of smile that wouldn’t look out of place in a bed. There was so much heat in the gray eyes locked on him that Harry felt like he was standing in front of a dragon.
For the first time ever, he realized just how dangerous Draco Malfoy could be.
God, he wanted to see more of it.
“What’s going on,” Ron bellowed, gesturing around the still as statues group and patted Harry on the shoulder. “You’d think someone just hexed your balls off, mate.”
Ron should not have mentioned balls. Especially when Harry was trying his hardest to forget a certain part of his body that had taken an interest in the proceedings. He snickered like a twelve year old at the play on words.
“Potter picked Pansy’s nose,” Malfoy murmured, his eyes never leaving Harry.
Pansy huffed and stomped her foot, causing her cleavage to jiggle. “That’s not what happened,” she countered and shot a devilish smile at Malfoy that was nothing less than feral. “Besides, that was after Creevey practically had his cock shoved up your arse.”
The pink that stained Malfoy’s cheeks was so endearing that Harry found his throat going dry. He licked his lips and the answering glint in Malfoy’s eyes made Harry feel like he was naked- the rest of the party melting away and leaving Harry exposed to the seductive stare of one Draco Malfoy.
“Then you said you wanted to lick Potter’s arse,” Bulstrode shouted like Malfoy needed to be sent to Azkaban for his crimes, successfully ending the spell that the blond and Harry had been under.
Harry cleared his throat and scuffed his shoe against the floor.
Ron looked like he was about to vomit. There was a strangled sort of sound in the back of his throat as his gaze flitted from Harry to Malfoy before he opened his mouth. “What’s next? Neville dancing the Macarena in a tutu?”
Suddenly there was a loud crash from the corner of the room, startling the crowd.
Little did they all know what kind of night they were in for.