Chapter 3...there's a bit of action between some different characters in this chapter, but I assure you, nothing will come of it. ^.~ Enjoy!
Title: Starts With a Spin
Category: Harry Potter
Genre: Humor/Romance/Smut/Slash
Rating: R
Pairing: H/D
Disclaimer: Harry Potter ain’t mine…if it were…well…Draco certainly wouldn’t be Harry’s enemy forever. ^.~
Summary: It started with the spin of a bottle, and now Harry and Draco have gotten themselves so far into their own game there's almost no way out again. Except to keep playing.
--> All chapters can be found here. <-- previous ~~Chapter 3~~
Harry felt uncomfortable and testy all week. He was sure that everyone was staring at him all the time. It was quite a different sort of attention he was used to receiving. Everywhere he looked, there was another one of his classmates smirking at him or smiling oddly, sometimes even looking a bit disgusted, and it was really starting to bother him.
“Seamus,” he said on Monday as the two of them were walking towards their Potions class. “Um, when you decided to…to be open about…um…”
“Being gay?” Seamus asked.
“Er, yes, that,” Harry replied, glancing off to the side. “Did people ever give you trouble about it?” Seamus blinked, looking thoughtful.
“No, not really,” he replied, before sighing. “Well, I mean… I guess there’s always going to be someone who’s disgusted by it, or uncomfortable with it, or something, and they definitely show it. But you can’t hide who you are just because of a couple of people.” Harry nodded absently, wincing as Justin chuckled and shook his head when he walked by. “Why do you ask, anyway? Something you’d like to tell me, eh, Harry?” Seamus grinned suggestively at his fellow Gryffindor.
“What? Seamus- No!” Harry spluttered. “It’s just…this whole thing with-with Malfoy…and the dares. I’ve noticed some people sneering at me about it. So I was just wondering.”
“Yeah, that happens. You learn to ignore it. After all, the only people whose opinions I care about don’t seem to mind.”
“Hmm. Yeah, I don’t mind. Not really,” Harry said, and Seamus gave him a genuine smile.
“And that means a lot to me, Harry, really. Thanks.” Harry smiled back. As the two boys turned the corner and were nearing Snape’s classroom, they noticed some of the Slytherins approaching from the opposite direction. “Oy, look Harry, it’s your clandestine lover,” Seamus quipped cheerfully. Pansy snickered from beside Draco.
“Funny, Finnigan,” Draco scowled as Harry shot Seamus an annoyed look. “You’re very amusing.”
“Malfoy,” Harry said guardedly. Draco glanced at him, eyes narrowing.
“Potter.” The two stood there, glaring at each other for about a minute before Pansy sighed exasperatedly.
“Oh honestly,” she exclaimed, and shoved Draco aside so she could make her way into the classroom. Draco looked scandalized, and started brushing down his clothes.
“So, Malfoy,” Seamus smirked, raising an eyebrow, “are those hickeys on your neck, or did you suddenly develop a rash?” Draco’s hand shot to cover the side of his neck and his eyebrows furrowed as Harry winced. Both boys glanced briefly at each other and blushed slightly, before their gazes slid off to the side.
“Whatever,” Draco grumbled, turning to follow Pansy. His hand was still covering his neck. Seamus started snickering, but Harry elbowed him slightly.
“What?” he said, trying to appear innocent. Harry frowned at him, his cheeks still pink. Ron and Hermione turned the corner at that moment, and Ron started waving wildly.
“Hey, mate, missed you after last class. Where’d you go?” he asked, smiling widely. Harry sighed and rolled his eyes, entering the classroom without answering. Ron frowned, and glanced at Seamus. “Did I say something?” Seamus grinned.
“Nah.”
* * *
Harry managed to avoid running into Draco for the next few days. It was odd, because it seemed as if the boy was suddenly showing up everywhere. Before, Harry had never gone out of his way to avoid him, so he was pretty sure that Draco had probably always been around, it’s just that’d he’d never been actively looking for him. Now, though, every time he peered around a corner, or was walking towards the Great Hall or classes they didn’t even have together, Harry would see that blond head. It was kind of unnerving.
It came to an end on Friday, though, outside of Potions once again. Harry was walking by himself, worrying about the following evening, when he was suddenly slammed into the wall. He gasped, hands coming up to claw at the arms that were clenched around his robes.
“M-M-Malfoy!” he gasped, glaring into the silver eyes in front of him. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” He looked around, wondering how he’d managed to find himself in a deserted hall with Draco Malfoy of all people. Draco shoved him back against the wall again.
“Do you know,” he ground out, looking furious, “that because of you I’ve had to wear turtlenecks all week long?!” Harry blinked, paused, and then blinked again.
“Um,” Harry snickered, “I’m sorry?”
“It’s not funny, Potter! People keep looking at me funny, especially Snape, because everyone knows I don’t wear the same type of outfit more than two days in a row!” Draco leaned in closer as he said this, and Harry attempted to become one with the wall.
“Malfoy, I hate to burst your bubble, but I don’t think anyone really notices what outfits you wear, much less when you wear them.” Harry lowered his eyes, glancing at the charcoal grey turtleneck that the boy was wearing, before meeting Draco’s eyes again. “I mean, I certainly never noticed.”
Draco rolled his eyes and released Harry, stepping back a slight bit, though there was still barely any room between them. “Well I’d be a little worried if you were paying that close attention to me, Potter,” he said, crossing his arms, “Wouldn’t I?” Harry also crossed his arms, mirroring the other boy’s stance.
“I’m pretty sure everyone understands, anyway. After all,” he raised an eyebrow, “who doesn’t know what you’re trying to hide? Except for Snape, maybe.” Draco sneered, pushing Harry against the wall again.
“Well I’m not exactly as proud of it as you seem to be,” he scowled, that now familiar pink color spreading across his nose.
“Malfoy!” a voice interrupted before Harry could reply. Draco quickly dropped Harry’s robes and stepped back. “What do you think you’re doing?!” Ron ran up, glancing warily at the Slytherin before turning to Harry. “You alright, mate?”
“He looks fine, Ron,” Hermione said exasperatedly as she walked up to the group.
“Really, Weasley, did you have to interrupt? It was just getting interesting.” Pansy came walking around the corner, followed by a rather large group of their peers, from all houses. Harry promptly blushed and Draco blinked a couple of times, lips set in a thin line.
“Have…have you all been there the whole time?” Harry asked. Pansy shook her short hair slightly, and made an indifferent gesture with her hand.
“We were hoping something worthwhile would happen,” she sighed. “But apparently you two are incapable of doing anything useful for yourselves.”
“And what exactly did you think they would do?” Ron asked incredulously as Hermione shifted slightly and glanced off to the side.
“Really, Pansy, I hate to agree with the Weasel, but you’ve been acting like a mad woman lately. It’s becoming increasingly worrying,” Draco said, crossing his arms.
“Hush, Draco, you don’t know what you’re talking about. I have nothing but your best interests in mind,” Pansy sniffed haughtily, raising her chin a bit. “Now come on, or we’re going to be late for class, and Professor Snape doesn’t tolerate anyone being late, much less the entire class.”
“Oh, shoot, you’re right,” Hermione spoke up, glancing at her watch. “We’re already two minutes-“
“Late? Yes, that is correct,” a low voice said, and every student in the hallway jumped slightly and turned to glance nervously at their Potions professor. Snape glanced around the hall slowly, his arms crossed and eyes narrowed. “May I inquire as to what is so enthralling out in the hall that every one of you felt the need to be out here, rather than in your rightful seat in my classroom?” No one said anything; they all just stared apprehensively at the dark-haired man. Snape exhaled harshly through his nose. “Alright, everybody in. You’ll be staying fifteen extra minutes to make up what you’re missing now, and I’ll not be writing you passes to your next class.” He pointed to the open door of his classroom. “Just be glad I’m not assigning each and every one of you a detention,” he said, as the entire group trudged into the room.
Harry sighed. He was so glad it was almost the weekend, because it gave him two days off from gits like Snape and Mal-
Oh…bugger.
* * *
“Harry,” Ron asked, later that night when the three were gathered in the Gryffindor common room. “Can I ask you something?” Harry looked at his friend in confusion.
“Yeah, Ron, of course you can.” Ron looked slightly nervous.
“Don’t get angry.”
Harry’s forehead furrowed. “Ok.”
“There’s…um, there’s nothing going on between you and…Malfoy, is there?” Ron winced as soon as the words left his mouth, as if waiting for an explosion. Harry blinked.
“What- Ron- NO! Why the bloody hell would you even ask? Me and Malfoy? That’s disgusting! I don’t…I don’t like boys!” Harry exclaimed. Hermione made a disapproving sound, but he ignored her.
“I know, I know, I didn’t think so, but…I just had to ask!” Ron said, holding up his hands defensively.
“WHY?” Harry asked, still a bit shocked. People didn’t actually think that, did they??
“Well, it’s just that the other day you were talking with Seamus, and then today that episode with you and Malfoy, and then last Saturday when you said you liked kissing him, and-”
“Ron, let’s get one thing straight,” Harry cut in, leaning forward and glancing around the room to check for eavesdroppers. “I don’t like kissing him.” He blushed. “I just…I can’t help it if he’s a…good kisser. And it’s not like I wanted to say that, it just sort of came out. I didn’t…um…a-and Seamus, well, we’re friends, so there’s nothing wrong with talking to him. And the thing with Malfoy today, well, he started that! Something about having to wear turtlenecks all week….” Harry trailed off, looking helplessly at Ron and then glancing to Hermione as if looking for help, but she just shrugged and continued with her homework.
“Yeah, see, that was another thing, Harry,” Ron said, scratching the back of his head. “That whole…kissing Malfoy’s neck thing-”
“Sucking,” Hermione corrected absently, “sucking and licking, to be precise.” Ron rolled his eyes, nose wrinkling in disgust.
“Right, that whole sucking Malfoy’s neck thing… Well, you weren’t dared to do that or anything and-”
“I just got caught up in the moment!” Harry exclaimed desperately. “Ron, I couldn’t help it! I didn’t mean to, he just…it…he…he’s good at it!” Harry was sure his face was as bright as a tomato right about now.
“Harry…”
“No, Ron, I mean it. You try kissing him, see what it’s like. Hell, try kissing anyone for that matter, you get caught up in things!”
“Ew, Harry, that’s disgusting,” Ron frowned. Harry glared at him.
“Well how do you think I feel?”
“You seem to enjoy it!” Harry frowned, and stood up.
“Fine, Ron, whatever. Think what you want, I’m going to bed.” He turned quickly and began trudging up the stairs.
“Harry!” Hermione called exasperatedly as Ron crossed his arms and sulked on the couch. Harry ignored her.
* * *
Draco wasn’t surprised when Harry arrived the following night in a foul mood, because he was feeling the exact same way. There was no telling what kind of horrid thing they would have to do tonight. If Boot’s and whichever-of-the Patil-twins-it-had-been’s dare the previous week was any sign, then things were bound to get worse rather than better. And apparently several of his classmates had figured this out as well, because their group had been reduced to about fifteen students. Even Crabbe and Goyle hadn’t wanted to come, but Draco had forced them to, because he figured if he had to suffer then his friends should as well. The Gryffindors were all there, no surprise, but the Hufflepuffs were pretty much completely absent. That Finch-Fletchley kid had shown up, along with one or two others, and there were a couple of Ravenclaws present.
The game started out as usual, and Draco was surprised that people actually still found new things to come up with that held everyone’s interest. He carefully avoided picking truth because he was afraid of what he might have to admit, and he managed to not get any disturbing dares with Harry either.
About an hour into the party, however, after Harry had been dared to kissed Hermione, because someone thought it would be amusing, Draco received a bit of a shock.
“Ron,” Harry called out, and Draco belatedly noticed that they weren’t sitting next to each other in the circle, “Truth or dare?” The Weasel looked nervous, but chose dare anyway. Stupid Gryffindors. Harry grinned, and something about it suddenly made Draco feel very anxious. “Well Ron,” Harry was saying, “since you didn’t believe me earlier-”
“Oh, Harry, no! I believe you, really! I’m sorry! I don’t know what I was thinking, I-”
“Too late, Ron,” Harry looked very pleased with himself, and when Ron glanced at Draco resignedly, the blond felt his stomach turn. He wouldn’t… “I dare you to kiss Malfoy.” He would. Draco groaned.
“Erm…just kiss, Harry?” Weasley looked hopeful, and Draco prayed he wasn’t hoping for more.
“Yeah, just kiss, Ron. I’ll be nice.” Harry’s grin widened. “But a real kiss, mind you. None of that tightlipped stuff we started out with.” Pansy burst out laughing at that, and even Hermione giggled slightly. Ron looked at her in shock.
“Alright then, hop to it, Weasley,” Pansy said, grinning widely. “This I’ve got to see. A Malfoy kissing a Weasley! Ha!” Draco crossed his arms and sulked.
“You know, I thought kissing Potter was bad, but I’m almost positive that this will be about a million times worse,” he growled, eyes narrowing. “I know Potter at least went through that disaster with the Chang girl, but somehow I think you’re a complete innocent, aren’t you, Weasel?” Ron blushed a shade of red that almost matched his hair, and Draco smirked. “I’m right, aren’t I? You mean you haven’t been snogging the mudblood? There’s a running bet going, you kn-”
“Shut up, Malfoy!” Harry shouted at the same time that Ron lunged across the circle and grabbed Draco’s shirt.
“Oh, eager are we?” Draco grinned nastily. Ron blushed further and dropped his shirt as if he’d been burned.
“Harry!” he whined, turning to the boy. Harry just shook his head.
“The dare’s still on. Maybe next time you should listen to me.”
“That’s right, Potter,” Pansy said, smiling slightly. “We’ll make a Slytherin out of you yet!” Harry gave her a pained smile.
“Come on then, Ron,” Seamus spoke up, and Hermione, sitting next to him, nodded as well. She seemed to have completely ignored Draco’s previous comment. Draco grimaced when Ron turned to him. He looked extremely nervous, and leaned forward a little. Then he paused, backed up a bit, leaned forward again, and paused again. Glancing around, he let out a breath, closed his eyes, and puckered his lips in a way that left Draco cringing. Just as Ron leaned forward again, apparently hoping to hit his target, Draco reared back and put a hand up to stop him.
“Stop, Weasley, just…stop. God, I was kidding but you’ve proved me right again.” He rubbed his forehead tiredly and Ron opened his eyes and looked annoyed. “I’ll lead. You just…just sit there, or something. And relax, for Salazar’s sake.” Ron sat back on his heels, looking disgruntled, and started when Draco grasped his chin.
Draco leaned forward, swallowing his disgust, and kissed Ron gently. Ron’s eyes squeezed shut and his hands clenched the material of his pants. Draco, whose eyes were still open, found this highly amusing, and ran his tongue lightly across the Weasel’s bottom lip, a trick he’d learned from Potter, ironically enough. Ron gasped, eyes shooting open but unable to break away because his chin was still in Draco’s grasp. He vaguely felt the blond boy’s lips curve into a smirk against his own, before his mouth was coaxed open for a brief second, and he groaned at the feeling of another tongue against his own. It was gone about three seconds later, and Draco released him, wiping his mouth as had become habit.
Ron stared stupidly at him, and Draco snapped his fingers a couple times in front of his face, getting no response.
“Hey, Potter, I think I was too much for the Weasel here to handle!” Draco exclaimed, for some reason feeling pleased that he could have this effect on Weasley of all people. He looked at Harry, grinning smugly, but it faded when he saw the look on the boy’s face. He looked…angry? “Potter?” Harry blinked suddenly, and smirked.
“Maybe now he’ll believe me, eh, Malfoy?” Draco smirked back.
“I am amazing,” he claimed. Ron frowned at him at that point, his eyes finally clearing, before standing up and quietly moving to sit next to Hermione, sullenly glaring at the ground. Harry just laughed slightly.
* * *
There was an exciting moment for Harry that night when he thought he’d be getting off easy. Though it struck him a bit funny that he now considered a simple, fully-clothed snogging session with Malfoy as “getting off easy.”
Then his mind took the phrase “getting off” and supplied him with vague images of a blond-haired boy and himself and sweat-covered bodies…
He quickly shook his head, startled, and shoved that thought to the deep recesses of his mind, swearing to never think about it again under penalty of a self-induced Avada Kedavra.
In any case, Harry was not, by any means, off the hook. It was one of the last turns of the night, following the episode with Ron and then he and Draco’s latest snog, and it was Terry who made it up.
“Harry, truth or dare?” Terry asked, tapping his fingers against the ground in a bored manner.
“Dare,” Harry replied, since he wasn’t about to pick truth again, ever. And then Terry smirked at him, and he began to think that maybe that wasn’t such a good choice.
“I dare you to give Draco a hand job,” he said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Harry coughed and Draco made an outraged noise.
“Ooohh, good one, Terry!” Millicent grinned.
“Um, excuse me?” Harry asked meekly, hoping that he’d possibly heard wrong or something.
“Hand job. Draco. Wanking? You know?”
“I know what it means!” Harry snapped, and then sighed. He crawled across to Draco, who was leaning up against the wall, and stared down at his hand.
“You are not touching me, Potter,” Draco said in a low voice, hands pressed into his lap. Harry rolled his eyes.
“Malfoy-”
“No.”
“But-”
“NO.”
“Look, Malfoy, it’s not like I actually want to touch you…there…but that’s the dare! It’s not my fault!” Harry exclaimed in exasperation.
“Potter,” Draco said, glancing at the boy out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t think you’re hearing me. You. Are. Not. Touching. Me!” Harry let out a breath, blowing his bangs off his forehead and slightly revealing his scar for a brief second.
“Fine,” he said, shrugging. “Alright. You give up then?” Draco’s eyes flashed, and he whipped his head around to look at Harry straight on.
“I don’t give up!” he said shortly. Harry cocked his head to the side.
“So then…” And suddenly it seemed like the entire group was holding its breath.
“Oh…bugger all, alright! Alright, alright, alright, fine. Just…whatever,” Draco muttered, crossing his arms and looking away, his face flushing slightly. He hunched over a bit and looked moody. Harry blinked and glanced across at Pansy, who gestured towards her friend as if to say, ‘Well, go on!’ Harry swallowed nervously, and kneeled in front of the blond. “Your hands are shaking,” Draco said softly, face steadily growing a deeper pink. Harry swallowed again.
“Um…y-yeah. Well, I suppose I’m a bit nervous,” he mumbled. Draco snorted. Harry leaned forward, his hand brushing against Draco’s crotch as he reached for the zipper on his pants. He paused, eyes widening, and Draco winced. “Heh, well I can see it’s not going to take much.”
“Shut up,” Draco whispered, eyes narrowing and his face turning bright red. Harry smirked, suddenly feeling much more confident. Before he could change his mind, he quickly undid Draco’s belt and zipper, and before Draco could figure out what had happened, Harry’s hand was down his pants.
He squeaked, in a most un-Malfoy-ish manner, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. He stared wide-eyed at Harry and Harry grinned nervously. “Er…” Draco stuttered, and then gasped and leaned his head back against the wall when he felt Harry’s fingers curling around his semi-hard member. He breathed in deep, and both boys bit their bottom lip when Harry’s hand started moving.
The room was completely silent, save for Draco’s harsh breathing. He tried keeping his eyes open, but they kept fluttering every time his breath hitched and eventually he gave up. Soon after that he forgot there was even anyone else in the room, and when Harry’s hand tightened slightly, he moaned out loud. It was the same low, guttural sound that had made Harry’s head spin before, and he pulled his hand away for half a second to spit in it before returning his attention back to Draco with renewed vigor.
Draco gasped again, and one of his hands came up to grasp at Harry’s shoulder. “P-P-Potter!” he exclaimed, taking a deep breath while his head twisted to the side.
“Like that?” Harry muttered, eyes on Draco’s face. Something in his chest twisted as he looked at the boy’s flushed cheeks. Draco’s eyes were screwed shut and his lips were parted slightly as he drew in ragged breaths. Harry swallowed and quickened the pace of his hand. He received a groan in response, and Draco eyes came to rest on Harry in a half-lidded gaze. Then his whole body seized up and his eyes squeezed shut, jaw dropping in a silent scream as he came into Harry’s hand. Harry blinked, still staring at Draco as he breathed heavily.
“Shit, Potter,” Draco breathed. Harry chuckled and held up his hand, which was covered in Draco’s sticky essence.
“Hey, Malfoy?”
“What?” He opened one eye to look tiredly at Harry.
“Truth or dare?” Draco blinked, becoming more aware of where he was. Blushing pink, he quickly did up his pants again, and shoved his hands into his lap. “Um…” He considered picking truth, but he figured Harry wouldn’t be making any dares that involved the two of them, and quite frankly he was scared he’d have to admit that he’d just experienced the best wank he’d ever had, so he decided to go with dare. “Dare, I suppose.” Harry shoved his hand into Draco’s face, and the blond grimaced.
“I dare you to lick it off…all of it.”
“Potter! Oh, how delightful!” Pansy exclaimed.
“How disgusting,” Ron muttered.
“S’not so bad,” Seamus and Lavender grinned.
“I hate you,” mumbled Draco. Harry shrugged. Sighing, Draco leaned forward and just kind of stared at the hand in front of him for a bit. Then he grabbed Harry’s wrist and slowly licked up one of the fingers. It tasted salty and bitter, but overall it wasn’t so horrible that he couldn’t deal with it. He moved onto the second finger, inserting the whole digit into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. He heard Harry’s sharp intake of breath, and paused, before grinning around his finger. Slowly, he sucked his way back up, releasing it and moving onto the third. His mouth moved up and down, bobbing as if intimidating something Harry had only experienced in his dreams.
Harry could feel himself starting to sweat as his pants grew uncomfortably tight. He shifted slightly, trying to pull his hand away from Draco, but the blond held on tight, continuing with those damnable swirls of his tongue. It was wet and warm, and Harry’s breaths were coming in gasps now and he tried to calm himself down but it just wouldn’t work. By the time Draco had finally finished with his entire hand, Harry felt miserable and uncomfortable, wishing he’d never dared him to do such a thing, but at the same also wishing they could move to a private room so he could make Draco finish what he’d started. But Harry was completely aware of all the eyes staring at him, and it was making him squirm.
“Truth or dare, Potter?” Draco asked, almost teasingly. Harry swallowed nervously.
“Truth,” he said miserably, knowing he was condemning himself to something but too worried about what Draco might dare him to do next.
“Just how turned on are you right now?” Harry’s eyes shut in shame, and he felt his cheeks burn.
“Are we done?” he asked.
“Once you answer that question,” Pansy answered. Harry stood up and headed for the door, but paused.
“Very, and uncomfortably so,” he answered, and lifted his head to glance at everyone in the room, before stopping at Draco. “So…I think I’m going to go take care of it.” He smirked, watching Draco’s eyes widen, and swept out of the room.
“So! Who has ideas for next week?” Pansy exclaimed cheerfully.
* * *
It was the following Tuesday that found Harry walking out of the Great Hall by himself. He’d been tetchy since Saturday, not talking much to anyone. As he headed to Transfiguration, he found himself suddenly yanked into an empty classroom. Thrown off balance, his bag dropped to the ground and he stumbled into one of the desks, hearing the door click shut behind him.
“What-” He glanced up, frowning when he saw Draco leaning against the closed door, arms crossed and one foot propped up against it. “Malfoy. What do you want?” Draco looked slightly uncomfortable and angry all at the same time. His eyes were narrowed, and he stared calculatingly at the black-haired boy in front of him.
“I know what the next dare will be,” he said, eventually. Harry blinked, glancing around the room before raising an eyebrow at Draco.
“Oh?” he asked, nervously. Draco took a deep breath.
“It’s a bit obvious really.”
“…”
“…”
“Well are you going to tell me?” Harry finally asked, getting tired of the long silence. He didn’t want to be with Draco any longer than he had to. Draco rolled his eyes.
“I thought you might have guessed.”
“No…”
“Blowjob, Potter, it’s going to be a blowjob,” Draco sighed, shoulders drooping.
“Oh…”
“Yeah.”
“From…did they get that idea from…from the hand thing?”
“Probably.”
“Oh.” There was another lengthy pause, and by this point Harry was sure they were late for class. “Um, well I should-”
“It’s going to be me,” Draco cut in. Harry blinked, and Draco grimaced.
“What is?”
“They’ll make me do it to you.”
“How do you know that?”
“I don’t.”
“…”
“I’m just…very certain about it. Almost positive.”
“Oh.” It occurred to Harry that this was probably the longest the two of them had ever been near each other without going at the other’s throat…eh, in more ways than one.
“Is that all you can say?” Draco asked exasperatedly.
“Well, what do you want me to do?” Harry asked in the same tone. Draco sighed, looking nervous, and ran a hand through his hair.
“Look, Potter, here’s the thing. I don’t like you. I hate losing to you, I hate…embarrassing myself in front of you-”
“Aww, Malfoy, I’m touched."
“Shut up, Potter!” He dragged another hand through his hair, and Harry realized this must be a nervous gesture of his. “As I was saying…as much as I hate all of that…I’d rather lose face to just one person rather than fifteen or twenty. And it’s not like I know what I’m doing, because I’ve certainly never…never done it to anyone before.” Draco stopped talking there, brow furrowed and lips pressed thinly together, but Harry kept waiting for him to continue.
“And that means…?” Harry prompted, when he realized nothing else was coming. Draco sighed and walked over to lean against the desk that Harry was sitting on. He crossed his arms again and started tapping his foot against the floor, before finally blurting out his answer.
“It means I think we should practice before Saturday.”
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Hum-de-dum… *grins* Good chapter? Yes? No? Tell me what you think! Feedback is very much appreciated!!
*~Maxine~*
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