Challenge Fic:
Feb. 15th, 2005 02:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyvaderOk, about a gazillion years back ;) my gorgeous & marvellously talented friend Angel & I were challenged to write a fic... I promptly forgot to write my parts and Angel conveniently ;P didn't kill me for being such a slacker.
Therefore, it is with a great admission of my own guilt and a huge sigh of relief that I finally post this fic..... I'd love to say it was a joint effort but tho a good bit of the writings mine, all the heart in this belngs to Angel... atta girl hon, the beast FINALLY is going up.
Challenge:
Due to an outbreak of several fights amongst the Gryffindor and Slytherin 7th years--physical and/or magical--the faculty decide that the Gryff and Slyth teens must get "married" as punishment with members of the enemy house. It's a school project (really it's punishment) to promote tolerance between the two houses for the last month of the school year until graduation. Each "couple" must shift around their schedules so that they have classes together, eat meals together and share their own separate dorm together because they will be magically bonded to their "partner". Requirements are:
1)The way the faculty chooses the "couples" is up to you. It doesn't matter who else gets paired up as long as Harry and Draco get paired together and completely throw a fit.
2)Harry and Draco, despite their hatred, get their groove on (in other words: SMUT) at some point.
3)The magical bond between each couple prevents each person from hiding from or storming off from his or her partner.
4)The project (punishment) will be graded. Low marks will be given every time to any couple who cannot get along.
5)Draco and Harry cannot get along. (And the hilarity begins!)
Title: Exploited Privileges
Author: dreambastion and ladyvader (Angel and Kim)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Draco, other minor pairings
Rating: NC-17 overall
Series: 4 of 4 parts
Summary: Harry and Draco are forced to 'marry' as part of a punishment... (orignal challenge posted prior to fic)
Author Web Page: Tainted Decadence and Strange Infatuations
Archive: Various archives
Feedback: Dreambastion@hotmail.com & LadyVader1998@hotmail.com : Feeeeeed me, Seymour!
Warnings: Graphic sex, violence, language, overall silliness
Disclaimer: It's called fiction for a reason - cause it ain't true
Beta: The ever lovely Linda - we would be nothing without her
Notes: This is written (2 years late) in answer to a challenge issued by our friend Nightshade24
Dedication: For Nightshade24 - we can only hope that we met your challenge and that you enjoy the fic, darling *smooch*
Week 1
Dumbledore sat at the head table in the Great Hall, his eyes wandering over the students, focusing on nothing, but seeing all. A disturbance at the back of the room drew his attention, and he sighed upon realizing that it was yet another fight between soon-to-graduate seventh years. He watched as Blaise and Ron lashed out at each other, Draco and Harry trying to separate them. He wasn't so far away that he couldn't see Draco and Harry glaring daggers at each other as well, but they at least had been somewhat behaving themselves of late.
Dumbledore wondered how much worse things would be right now if Harry hadn't defeated Voldemort last summer. If the Death Eaters-to-be that had been too young at the time were still now serving their Dark Lord. Thankfully, that all seemed to be behind them, and this past school year had gone well. Draco and Harry, Hogwarts' resident rivals, still fought, though not as frequently as they had. Draco had refused the mark when Voldemort had called for him, for reasons that no one at Hogwarts knew, save Draco, Snape, and Dumbledore. He knew Harry didn't want to trust the younger Malfoy, but at least he was willing to trust in Dumbledore's judgment. It had brought a bit of peace, knowing that Harry was willing to try not fighting with Draco because Dumbledore admitted he trusted the Slytherin.
Dumbledore relaxed slightly as Draco and Harry began pulling their respective friends away from each other. He was about to turn to Minerva and comment on it when Blaise and Ron suddenly lunged away from their referees and towards each other once more. Dumbledore gritted his teeth and stood quickly.
"That is enough!" his stern voice boomed across the hall, his hand slamming down on the table for emphasis, the echo reverberating around the rafters. Everyone in the hall froze, the students and teachers alike. Blaise and Ron were balanced precariously against each other, in the middle of what looked to be a hair-pulling contest. Harry winced and Draco looked bored.
"I have had enough of this foolishness from you seventh years. You are about to graduate, about to enter the world as adults, and it is high time that you started acting like it!" Dumbledore exclaimed, muttering curses under his breath. McGonagall turned to him and opened her mouth to speak, but he waved her away.
"I want you all to return to your common rooms. All of you," he repeated, interrupting the mutterings of the younger years, "and I want the Slytherins and Gryffindors to consider what you have been doing. Tomorrow, after dinner, the seventh years from those two houses will remain here in the hall. That should afford me enough time to think up a suitable punishment for you." He stood looking out over the hall, his normal twinkle missing completely from his eyes. No one moved as they all stared at him, bewildered.
"I said go!" he yelled, pointing towards the door. Students of all ages scrambled for the exit, anxious to escape the Headmaster's wrath. When all the students were gone, Dumbledore dropped into his seat with a bone-weary sigh, his fingers rubbing his eyes tiredly.
"Well, that was quite a display, Albus. And just what do you intend to do to punish them?" McGonagall asked, her tone slightly frosty with disapproval. Dumbledore raised his head and looked at her wearily.
"I don't know just yet, Minerva, but I will think of something," he replied.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
Dumbledore sat at the head table and watched as all but the seventh years from Gryffindor and Slytherin filed slowly out of the Great Hall, hoping to catch some hint about what the punishment was going to be. But the teachers ushered them out and everyone inside waited until the doors were closed firmly behind the younger students, and only Dumbledore and the two respective Heads of House remained with the antsy soon-to-be graduates. Dumbledore stared silently out over the remaining young adults, letting them fidget under his gaze for a while before he stood.
"I want all of you to move up here to the head of your respective table," he began, motioning the students forward. He waited until they were all settled in the closer seats before he began speaking again, softly, his tone carrying more weight than if he had yelled at them again. "I have decided what I will be setting as the punishment for your recent disregard for proper behavior. You show a decided lack of desire to get along, and this type of attitude will only damage you in the future. Learning to work with others, even those you may consider enemies or rivals," he paused and looked pointedly at the Ron and Blaise, "is vital to your adult lives. So, I will help you in your endeavor to learn to exhibit self-restraint and more maturity than you have been showing lately. And to do this, I have decided that you will be sorted into pairs, and you are to be 'married' to your partner for the remaining month of school until graduation."
Eyes widened around the room, students and teachers alike. McGonagall and Snape both opened their mouths to protest, but Dumbledore silenced them with a firm glance. He looked out over the students, who were looking around at each other with confusion and slight fear showing clear in their expressions. Draco alone seemed uninterested and bored with the proceedings as he idly picked at his fingernails.
"Tomorrow, you will stay after dinner again. The Sorting Hat will be used to place you with a partner. Once your partners are assigned, a spell will be cast that will remain in effect until the day before graduation. This spell will serve a variety of functions, all important to the lesson that I am trying to teach you. One of the main factors of this will be a proximity spell that will not allow you to stray too far from your partner. Another aspect of the spell will affect the grade you will receive once the punishment is complete. It will act in such a way that I will know when you are fighting with your partner, and points will be taken away. And, vice versa, when one member of this pair does something nice for the other, points will be added. Schedules will be adjusted so that each of you can attend classes with your partner," he explained, raising his hands for silence when voices rose from both tables in protest, "Arguing with me will do no good. This is what I have decided on, and it will be done. You may all return to your common rooms now."
Muted grumbling followed the students out the door, the rival houses taking care to distance themselves from each other. Snape's mouth was set in a tight, thin line as he watched until the final student was gone. Only then did he turn to Dumbledore, cutting off McGonagall, who was starting to voice her own opinion.
"Headmaster, I understand that you believe you are teaching them a valuable lesson, but I believe that this may be, quite possibly, the dumbest thing you have ever done," the Potions Master stated bluntly, ignoring McGonagall small gasp of shock at his audacity. Dumbledore merely smiled indulgently and nodded.
"It may very well be. And it also may very well be just the catalyst we have needed to get these two houses to see eye to eye. Only time will tell, Severus, and we'll leave it to that, shall we? Now, Minerva," he interrupted when she once again tried to speak, "I know what you will say, and the same goes for you two that I said to the students. Arguing with me will accomplish nothing. Now, I'm tired, so I shall retire and I will see you two at breakfast tomorrow." With that final note, the Headmaster turned and walked from the Great Hall, leaving two gaping teachers staring dumbfoundedly after him.
"Well, that was interesting," McGonagall said after she finally found her voice again.
"That may be the understatement of the year, Professor," Snape replied dryly as he stood and stalked off to his quarters, his robes billowing out behind him.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
The following night dinner was a quiet and subdued affair. The Slytherins and Gryffindors involved in the punishment were virtually silent, leaving the other houses and the younger students of their own houses to ponder what could possibly be happening with their peers. The seventh years had kept the punishment to themselves, despite many attempts from others to find out what was going on. Most of them considered it embarrassing enough without everyone in the school knowing about it.
When dinner was over, the majority of the students were once again herded out of the hall, leaving those from the night before. Dumbledore walked into a small adjacent room and returned with the Sorting Hat and a stool while the students once again moved to the head of their tables. Their expressions were mostly the same - irritation, embarrassment, indignation.
"When I call your name, you will come forward and take a seat on the stool. I will place the Sorting Hat on your head, just like when you were sorted into your houses. Once everyone has been tested by the Hat, it will announce the pairs," Dumbledore explained. He looked down at the scroll in his hand and was about to call the first name when the Sorting Hat spoke up.
"Before we do that, I would like to sing the song that I prepared," the Hat said, already drawing a deep breath to begin his song and ignoring the groans from everyone around it.
"Oh, no, there won't be any of that. We don't have time for a song," Dumbledore interrupted. The students and teachers alike silently cheered the Headmaster, and some not so silently, but the Sorting Hat wasn't daunted by Dumbledore's firm tone.
"Come now, there is always time for a song. It's not even very long. Oh, look, I just made a rhyme!" the Hat chuckled gleefully and began drawing another breath, but Dumbledore was determined.
"No, there isn't time. We need to get the sorting done and over with. No song," he reiterated. The Sorting Hat frowned and turned its eye slits up to glare at Dumbledore.
"Now, see here, old man. You wake me up months before I'm needed. You tell me that I have to partake in this idiotic punishment, that, quite frankly, is the dumbest thing you have ever done, and that's saying something. And then you tell me I can't sing my song? How dare you? Just who do you think you are? If I don't get to sing, then I don't do the stupid sorting," the Hat argued. And with that said, the Sorting Hat pressed its lips firmly together and stared at the floor. Dumbledore brought his arm up so that the Sorting Hat was at eye level and shook it hard to get its attention.
"Listen here, you old saddle bag. You will do this sorting, and you will do it right now, or so help me, I'll make sure that you end up on the bottom of someone's shoes!" Dumbledore threatened. The Sorting Hat narrowed its slits at him like a petulant child and tried to glare him into submission. When it became clear to the Hat that it wasn't going to win, it huffed and puffed and parted Dumbledore's beard with its sigh.
"Fine. Let's get this mess over with, shall we?" the Hat conceded grudgingly. Dumbledore began calling names and placing the Hat on the students' heads. The whole while, the Hat was muttering to itself about old wizards and senility and rudeness. Harry Potter was one of the last to come to the front, and the Hat had an odd sense of deja vu as the boy sat down and let Dumbledore place the worn leather on his head. The Sorting hat could hear the mantra that was echoing through the Gryffindor's head.
'Anyone but Malfoy...Anyone but Malfoy...Anyone but Malfoy'
'Oho, so it's this again, is it?' the Hat thought to itself, 'Well, we'll just have to see about that. Not letting me sing my simple little song. I'll have my fun, one way or another.'
Once the last student had been to the front, Dumbledore laid the scroll on the table and waited for the Sorting Hat to begin announcing the pairings. It took its sweet time, pretending to leisurely consider each partnership before calling out two more names. Ron flushed red enough to match his hair when the Hat paired Hermione with Blaise Zabini, and the red turned almost purple when he saw the nasty look that Zabini directed at Hermione. Finally, as the list began to dwindle, and it was becoming obvious that there weren't too many available partners left, the Sorting Hat decided to play it's trump card.
"Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy!"
The Hat smirked as shocked silence reigned supreme throughout the Great Hall, followed soon after by loud voices vehemently demanding that the Hat should be made to change it's mind. The loudest voices of all were those of the Ron and Hermione. Harry just let his head drop forward onto the table with a groan and a loud thump of his forehead connecting with the old oak planks. Dumbledore tried to quiet the students, and explained that what the Sorting Hat declared had to be abided by, though he was shooting the offending leather object some pointed glares because he knew the Hat was up to deliberate mischief.
Draco Malfoy sat smiling slightly, seemingly unconcerned with the decision that the Hat had made. Actually, he was inwardly gloating, thinking about how he would just owl his father and tell him all about this silly punishment, and how the Sorting Hat had done the ridiculous thing of pairing him with that prat Potter. Father would take care of everything and all would once again be right in Draco's world.
Dumbledore had finally managed to silence the students and the two professors when another thought occurred to Draco. Father and Mother were gone! Out of the country! It would take days, or even weeks for the owl to find them and bring back a reply, and even longer if Father had to travel here in person to fix this mess, which wasn't likely, given the circumstances behind his 'vacation'. Nothing could be done about this fiasco. Draco Malfoy was going to spend the next month married to Harry 'Bloody Prat' Potter. Draco leapt to his feet with a cry of distress, his voice echoing off the stone walls and floor. He blushed, something he rarely did, because it was bad for his appearance, then sat down quickly and buried his head in his arms.
"Now that everyone is once again quiet and calm, let me clear up a few other details of this punishment. You will be sharing a room with your partner. The rooms will accommodate two twin beds and the location of each partnership's room will be determined randomly based on available space in each dormitory. That means that some Slytherins will be in Gryffindor Tower and some Gryffindors will be in the Slytherin dungeon. If any one involved in this abuses the fact that you know the other House's password, I will know, and believe me, another altogether less enjoyable punishment will be meted out," he paused to make sure they took his warning to heart, and considering how 'enjoyable' the current punishment was, most of them understood clearly what he meant, so he continued, "Now, you will be moving into your new rooms tomorrow. I suggest you go tonight and get your things packed. Tomorrow, while you are in classes, your Heads of House, along with myself, will take care of the room arrangements."
The students stood with a dejected air and moved slowly through the heavy doors of the hall. Once again, Snape was gritting his teeth until the last student was out and the doors were firmly closed behind the group.
"Now see here, Dumbledore. You can't mean to let this go on! I mean, Potter and Malfoy paired together? Do you want their mutual deaths on your conscience? Because that is what will happen before the month is out, mark my words," Snape declared. McGonagall nodded vigorously in agreement.
"I think you are wrong, Severus, and you as well, Minerva. I believe everything will work out just fine. I'm going to have a spot of tea. Would either of you care to join me," he asked. When both shook their heads, he turned to leave, but paused at the door, "Oh, and, professors, you will be responsible for the students that will be residing in each of your houses, regardless of which house they actually belong to. Kindly remember that throughout the following month." He looked pointedly at Snape, who narrowed his eyes at the implication, before leaving and closing the door firmly behind him, once again leaving two completely bemused teachers in his wake.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
Draco was already standing in front of the statue guarding Dumbledore’s office when Harry arrived. Harry could hear Draco cursing the statue from a few corners away and knew that the Slytherin didn’t know the password to get in.
“Arguing with it doesn’t do a bit of good, you git,” Harry muttered as he stepped up and spoke the password. Harry saw Draco glare at him from the corner of his eyes and was about to say something when the statue turned and Draco bolted up the stairs to the headmaster’s office.
“Hey!” Harry cried out, leaping to a late start to try to beat the blond to the door. Harry was just behind Draco when they both went bursting through the door without knocking, startling Dumbledore out of what looked suspiciously like a nap at his desk.
“What is the meaning of this?” Dumbledore demanded. Harry and Draco both began speaking at the same time.
“Professor, you can’t seriously mean to…”
“I’ll kill him before I’ll be married to him…”
“Strangle him in his sleep…”
“My father will have your hide for…”
“I swear I’ll shave him bald and leave him in the Great Hall naked…”
“Probably try to molest me in my sleep…”
Both Harry and Draco froze when they heard the other’s last statement. They glared daggers at each other.
“Having fantasies about me already, Potter, and we aren’t even sharing a room yet,” Draco challenged with a slight purr in his voice that contradicted the look in his eyes.
“You couldn’t get that lucky, you narrow-minded, twisted little prat,” Harry countered with a snort of derision.
“If that’s what you consider lucky, then I’m glad I don’t qualify, you disfigured glory hound,” Draco retorted, turning so that he was fully facing Harry. Harry took a step forward, pushing in Draco’s personal space.
“Listen, you bleach-blond, can’t fly, non-snitch catching daddy’s boy…” Harry was just getting warmed up when Dumbledore cut him off.
“Gentlemen, that will be quite enough of that. These types of attitudes are what have gotten you and your classmates in trouble in the first place. There are absolutely no arguments that you can use that will make a difference in my decision, nor will any threats about fathers who are currently tanning on a tropical beach somewhere that the ministry has no jurisdiction,” Dumbledore said, his eyes focused pointedly on Draco with the last comment, “Now then, both of you back to your respective rooms.” He stared at them, silently, until they both hung their heads and shuffled out the door.
“Prat,” Draco muttered as a parting shot as they both reached the bottom of the staircase.
“Git,” Harry responded as he headed down the hall away from the Slytherin.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
Draco was muttering to himself as he charmed his clothing into his wardrobe and trunk. He heard the door open behind him and his muttering increased in volume. He turned to find many of his Slytherin classmates crowded into the doorway of his room. Blaise stood at the forefront of the group, his arms folded over his chest, staring expectantly at Draco.
“What, Zabini? What do you want?” Draco snapped, cursing as he had to refold a shirt that he had let fall to the floor.
“Look, Draco, we want you to fix this,” Blaise said as though those few words made all the sense in the world.
“Fix what, exactly? The punishment? Sorry, can’t help you,” Draco replied and turned his attention back to his packing lest he allow something to get folded wrong and end up wrinkled.
“Owl your father, Draco. He’ll stop this,” Pansy said from behind Blaise. The others in the group nodded in agreement, murmurs echoing softly in the room.
“My father is who knows where, and it would take ages for an owl to find him. And if he did decide to come back to take care of this, which he probably wouldn’t do, considering…” Draco paused and waved his hands vaguely, “considering everything, then it would still take him ages to get back here. By the time he could do anything about it, the punishment would be mostly over, and what good would it do to bring him back from his vacation?” Some of the Slytherins grinned at Draco’s choice of words, knowing full well that Lucius Malfoy probably did not view his involuntary exile as a vacation.
“Come on, Draco, you have to do something,” Blaise whined, his voice taking on a girlish edge that had Draco gritting his teeth in frustration.
“NO! No, no, no, no! I can’t! Now get out!” he yelled, stalking across the room and pushing at the mass of bodies. The last thing Draco heard before he slammed the door in their faces was Blaise’s angrily muttered reply.
“Some leader you are,” the other boy said.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
“Look, this is my room, so you can just find space for your crap where it will fit, but I am not getting rid of anything of mine,” Harry argued, doing his best to stare down the irritating Slytherin standing in the middle of the room.
“One item of my clothing is worth more than everything you own, Potter, so we will be rearranging what is in this hovel you call your room, and we will be doing it to my specifications,” Draco said firmly, his wand out as he levitated Harry’s dresser to the furthest corner from the beds so that he could place his wardrobe right beside his own bunk.
“NO! Why should I have to walk across the cold floor to get to my clothes while yours sits right by your bed?” Harry yelled as he moved his dresser back over towards its original place. He pointed his wand at Draco’s wardrobe to move it back and was greeted with a seething blond suddenly in his face and a wand poking him in the ribs.
“You will turn your wand another direction, Potter, and you will do it now, or you will regret ever even looking at my wardrobe cross-eyed,” Draco threatened, shoving his wand further into the flesh of Harry’s torso to emphasize his point.
“Sheesh, fine. If you want to be a self-centered, egotistical prick, then be my guest,” Harry huffed and stomped over to flop himself down on his bed.
“Thank you, darling, for being so accommodating,” Draco said gleefully and Harry barely resisted the urge to throw his pillow at the gel-haired prat. Harry stayed on his bed watching as Draco arranged and rearranged the room so many times that the brunet lost count. He sighed with relief when the blond finally surveyed the room one last time and nodded his approval.
“There. Now it’s somewhat livable,” Draco said and turned towards his wardrobe, Harry assumed to make sure the move hadn’t wrinkled any of his socks. Harry grudgingly admitted (only to himself, mind you) that the layout of the furniture was actually quite convenient to the both of them, except for the fact that his dresser was still against the far wall. There wasn’t much room to move around in the small room, but at least it was livable, as Draco had said.
Harry was forced to rethink that admission the next morning. He attempted to get out of bed, but he forgot to put his glasses on, and he ended up stepping on the foot of one Draco Malfoy, who was also just waking up. The blond let out a howl of pain that reminded Harry of a dying hippogriff and clutched his foot as he fell back on his bed.
“Potter, you monster, you’ve broken my toes with your flipper feet,” Draco whined. Harry sighed irritably, a habit that he had noticed a decided increase in since the day before, and put his glasses on. He grabbed Draco’s foot, ignoring the protests of the dying blond, and inspected the offended toes.
“Malfoy, there isn’t a thing wrong with your toes, so get up and do be quiet. My head hurts enough this morning without your caterwauling to add to it,” Harry said and dropped Draco’s foot, secretly enjoying the thump it made on the stone floor and the real exclamation of pain that the Slytherin uttered at the bump.
“Caterwauling? If you think that was caterwauling then you should hang around the Slytherin dorms more often. There is no sound in the world quite so obnoxious as Pansy when she and Goyle are going at it,” Draco countered. Harry felt his stomach lurch at the thought and he knew that his face must have turned green, judging by the smirk on Draco’s face.
“That was a mental image that I really could have lived the rest of my life without, thanks,” Harry said as he stripped off his pajamas to get dressed. Draco shrieked, quite like a girl, and covered his eyes with both hands.
“Merlin, Potter, at least go in the other room to do that! Are you trying to blind me?” Draco asked. Harry snorted and shook his head.
“You’re the one who looks like you live in a windowless room, Malfoy, so don’t talk to me about blinding people,” he said. Draco glared at him, gathered up his clothes and stalked into the adjoined bathroom to get ready for the day.
Two hours later he came out. Harry looked at his watch, looked at Draco, back at his watch, back at Draco. After a few more rounds of this, Draco finally snapped.
“What? You think you can look this good without taking the time to achieve it?” he asked impatiently, “I mean, its obvious you don’t put any effort into your own appearance, Potter, but other’s around here do have an image to maintain.” Harry decided it was best to not reply to that comment, so he walked into the bathroom and silently picked up his brush. He swiped his hair with a few quick strokes and walked back out to put on his shoes. He was surprised, though he reasoned he shouldn’t be, when Draco walked back into the bathroom for the second time that morning. After he had finished tying his shoes, Harry walked over to see what Draco was up to and leaned in the open doorway.
Harry found Draco standing in front of the mirror double and triple checking that his hair was perfectly in place. Harry barely restrained a snort of laughter when Draco winked at his reflection, but he was unable to control his amusement when Draco’s reflection made a kissing face back at the blond.
“God, you really are in love with yourself, Malfoy. And here I thought it was just a summer fling,” Harry said with a smirk. He grinned when Draco deigned only to turn his head slightly so that he could glare at Harry from the corner of his eye, while Draco’s reflection chose a more direct method and offered its middle finger.
“Laugh all you want, Potter. I know it’s really jealousy that makes you say such things,” Draco said in a frosty tone, still glaring at Harry in the mirror. Harry shook his head and walked out the door without responding to the blond. He returned in a few seconds, clutching his stomach, only to find Malfoy doing the same.
“I guess we know what the proximity spell feels like now,” he said. Draco grunted in reply and pushed passed Harry to walk out of the room. He seemed to rethink something at the doorway, and he came back and grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged the brunet along with him. Harry just shook his head, again, which was becoming another increasingly annoying habit, and followed his new ‘spouse’.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
Draco took his usual seat at the Slytherin table despite the glare he received from Harry. He may have to spend most of his time with the bespectacled git, but he would be damned if he would willingly give up his seat at his house’s table just because of this stupid ordeal.
Draco only made it halfway through the meal before the queasy feeling in his stomach forced him to change his mind. He stood and stalked over to Harry, glad that his assumption had been right and that the sickness was being caused by the proximity spell. He shoved a Creevey out of the way and plopped elegantly into the spot at Harry’s elbow. Now, one might think that it isn’t possible to plop elegantly, but if anyone could, it would be a Malfoy. His plopping quickly garnered him glares from the surrounding Gryffindors, but he simply smirked at them and began filling a fresh plate. He noticed that it wasn’t long before many of the seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins were playing musical chairs so that they were situated more closely with their spouse, though most of the Slytherins chose to take over the neighboring table rather than actually sit at the Gryffindor bench as Draco had done.
Draco looked at Harry and noticed that what he had previously thought was a calm face, a face of one supposedly unaffected by the spell, was actually covered in beads of sweat, and Harry’s jaw had obviously been clenched tightly against the sickness he had felt.
“So, you felt it, too?” Draco asked. Harry only nodded in return, wiping his forehead with his napkin and letting out a shaky breath as he began eating again. Draco glared at him and poked him hard in the arm as he continued, “You felt it, too, but you would rather sit here and suffer than move closer? And I thought you were a chivalrous person by nature, Potter.” Harry turned and Draco was pleased to note the fire of irritation that he had sparked was growing in Harry’s gaze.
“I will never sit at the Slytherin table, Malfoy. Never. And not even this spell can make me change my mind on that,” Harry said firmly. Draco quirked one eyebrow at the brunet and smirked.
“Are all Gryffindors really this stubborn, or is it just one of your more charming personality traits… darling?” Draco asked, adding the endearment as an afterthought. He was pleased once again when Harry’s head whipped round and he glared at Draco.
“Do not call me darling, Malfoy,” Harry ordered, and Draco simply laughed and continued eating, knowing he was infuriating the Gryffindor even more.
Draco was still chuckling several minutes later, much to the disgust of the others around him. He was beginning to think that this punishment might have its upside after all.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
"Look, all I said was the two beds take up a lot of space. It was not, as you put it, a shockingly machiavellian, yet disturbingly perverted Gryffindor trick to get in bed with you," Harry said with a disgruntled sigh as Draco continued to throw him disgusted looks from the other side of the room.
He began again, surprisingly sick of the silent treatment from his newfound roommate. "Don't you remember, Malfoy? Only yesterday you remarked how annoying it was to have absolutely no room to swing dead cats in here, I said why would you want to, you said had I not met Mrs. Norris...?" He trailed off with a sigh, then said, "Believe me, the very 'last' thing I want in this world is to share a bed with you, but 'something' has to go and you threatened to hex me into the next millennium were I to, and I quote, lay a single filthy Muggle-loving, house-elf shagging, rotten son of a flobberworm hand on your wardrobe."
Malfoy sighed long-sufferingly, "You could never hope to understand the bond between myself and fine clothing, Potter, no more than I will ever understand your liking for that disgusting thing you were talking to Granger about.... Marmite, was it?" He shuddered delicately and continued, "Like tar on bread... disgusting! Anyway, you only wish you were lucky enough to share a bed with me. I've known wizards and witches who've threatened suicide at the prospect of not sleeping with me."
"I imagine it's the ones who do sleep with you that actually bump themselves off then?" Harry shot back with a snigger that met an abrupt death on the receiving end of an icy glare from Draco.
The blond's eyes narrowed before a slow smile spread over his face, alarming Harry with how it suddenly seemed to make Draco's eyes shine just that much brighter with intent. "Jealous, are we?" the Slytherin purred, moving to stretch out on his bed, "You can't handle the thought of having me beneath the same sheets as you every night, can you? It’s just too much temptation for a goody-goody like yourself."
Harry snorted with contempt, fighting the blush that threatened as the image of Malfoy's ivory skin stretched out beside him popped unbidden into his head. "Please," he muttered and Draco smirked.
"See?" he quipped, quirking an eyebrow, "You're already begging for the chance and I haven't even agreed yet."
Potter merely rolled his eyes at this, having learnt by their enforced proximity that to continue this argument would only lead to the unsuccessful suppression of highly violent impulses and just at that moment he somehow felt he shouldn't get that close to the platinum pain. Withdrawing his wand, he turned to face the wardrobe, lips parting to utter a dismantling spell when he found himself roughly tackled from behind.
"What. Did. I. Say. About. The. Wardrobe?"
Harry gasped under the weight now pinning him to his own bed, face pressed into the blankets, "Touch it and.... Die?"
"Precisely."
Harry sighed heavily, part of him enthralled by how he felt the steady weight of Malfoy rising and falling with his breath as the blond lay across his back. "Fine then... no changing the beds, no changing the wardrobe, we can just fight over space for the next few weeks until one of us kills the other."
Draco clucked above him. "Well, there's no need for that tone, Potter," he muttered crossly and Harry had to stifle a laugh at how much Malfoy reminded him of Mrs. Weasley at that point. He felt Draco rummaging around in his own robes and idly wondered why he hadn't made to get off of him yet and whether he should tell Draco to do so when a sudden muttered command made him squeak and clutch the covers as the bed shot across the room to slam against its counterpart with enough force to topple Malfoy so that he tumbled down to lay beside Harry. Sitting up quickly as suddenly two silver gray orbs were just that little bit too close for comfort, Harry noted with surprise that the two beds were now merged and nestling quite cozily in just one corner of the room.
"Hey," Harry noted with approval, " Nice job." He turned to smile down at the prone, smug Slytherin and consequently realized that he'd have to accustom himself to being as close as he was to him in such a position. He blushed at the knowing gleam in the ice blond's eyes.
”Oh no, Potter," he drawled, sitting up quickly, "No trying to picture me under you. That won't be happening anytime soon. Merlin's beard, I just knew you'd go all sex-maniac if we had to share a bed. Not that I blame you, of course, you're just a pathetic, helpless virgin, and it's my own fault for being just so damn irresistible."
Harry scowled and flipped him the bird, reaching around to rearrange the pillows at far sides of the mattress, "Well, sorry to tell you, Malfoy, but I don't need to imagine you under me because you'll 'always' be beneath me. And if you think I want to share this bed with you anymore than you want to share it with me, then you're even more deranged than I thought. And virgin? Virgin? Ha!"
Draco quirked an irascible eyebrow and rolled smoothly off the bed onto his feet. "Whatever, Potter, and I'd give up on the pillow shuffling because no matter what you do we're still sleeping next to reach other. I guess I'd best go put on my least enticing pajamas and, Potter... 'Not' a virgin? What'd you do? Finally say yes to a Creevey?" As Malfoy turned towards the wardrobe a pillow hit him in the back of the head doing the unthinkable and mussing the previously supposed unmovable platinum strands.
"I'll have you know, Malfoy, that no matter how 'enticing' you may think you are, you're the only one in this room to think so. Furthermore I'd like to just say 'Yuck' and point out that I lost my virginity to a girl." With this smugly delivered speech, Harry hopped off the bed, pulled his jumper over his head and walked over to the wardrobe to retrieve his own flannel pajamas.
Malfoy snorted and began undoing his shirt buttons with jerky annoyed movements. "Yeah, sure thing, sweetums," he snapped, "You had sex with a female and I'm Hagrid's love-slave." He whisked his shirt off with practiced ease and placed his hands on his slim hips in a way he knew showed his physique off to its greatest advantage, glaring at the brunet now chuckling as he shrugged into his pajama top.
"Wow, I can't believe it. You and Hagrid, eh? Can't say I saw it coming. In fact, I can't think of anything that might horrify me more to imagine."
"You know what I mean, Potter. You’re gayer than Lockheart and twice as stupid if you think I'm going to believe otherwise."
Harry paused in his undignified shucking of his trousers, standing with them pooled about his feet in just his undone pajama top and boxers, "Wait, wait a second here, Malfoy. You don't believe that I've done it with a woman?"
"Nope," Draco smirked, trying to not notice how oddly sculpted Harry's slender chest appeared beneath the loose material.
"Well, then this should throw you for a loop, because I think you should know I've slept with three girls and none of them seemed to find it hard to believe."
Draco gaped, "Ok, aside from the fact that you're a hideously disfigured troglodyte who I cannot picture attracting anyone, I've had it on the best authority that you're gayer than the entire Wizarding Synchronized Flower Arranging team put together."
"Well, I'm not quite that bad, but I am bisexual, if that's what you mean, Malfoy, and besides, you're one to talk. I saw those pictures the Creevey's took last year and while, in fairness, you couldn't see exactly what was going on, you looked pretty damn queer to me."
The Slytherin sneered and slowly unfastened his trousers. "And dare I ask just how long and for what purpose you were examining these pictures, Potter? Because if for any reason they affected you then you'd better turn away now before I take any more off. We wouldn't want you making a mess of yourself, now would we?"
Harry scowled fiercely, kicking his trousers away and stalking over to Malfoy, his tone dripping with sarcasm and saccharine. "Oh god yes, Draco, you're all I can think about. I actually bribed Dumbledore into setting up this whole marriage task because I was just dying to be near you. And the beds? They weren't taking up that much room, I just want the chance to slide up next to you in the middle of the night and ravage you against your will."
Draco lifted one perfect platinum brow. "Well, there's a shocker," he drawled before snatching up his pajamas and stalking into the connecting bathroom to change. Harry rolled his eyes, spluttering for a moment for a suitable reply before snarling and kicking off his boxers, throwing on his pajamas and plonking himself down on their now joint bed to idly charm his clothes into the laundry hamper. After a moment he sighed heavily and crawled to the far side of the bed, settling himself beneath the covers with a resigned air that disguised the nervous churning in his stomach. He was just settling into a nice haze of warmth and drowsiness when Malfoy emerged from the bathroom with a blast of fragrance and heat.
"Decided to cleanse and freshen up, not that there's much point after all, because I'll be irrevocably tainted as it is and... just what do you think you're doing, Potter?"
"Well I was trying to sleep, but..." he was abruptly cut off as Draco stormed forward.
"Don't be stupid, Potter. Consider where you're laying. Before they were merged, that side would have been my bed, so move before I have to torch it all to make it habitable."
With a groan of impatience Harry shuffled himself over to the other side, fussing gruffly as he realized that part of the mattress was cold and frowning as Malfoy climbed over him, snuggling down into his former cozy spot with a long suffering sigh. "Merlin, Potter, it's roasting over here. Do you give off quite enough body heat?"
Harry groaned softly and nuzzled his head deeper into the pillow. "Would it be too much to ask you to just shut the hell up, Malfoy?"
A mocking laugh made its way past the drowsy haze pervading Harry's mind. "Oh dear, is my poor sweetums too tiwed to piwwow tawk wid me?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Malfoy?"
"Yes, dearest?"
"Go fuck yourself."
Draco's amused grin spread to full on evil smirk as he regarded the silky black locks presented to him at the far side of the bed. "Guess I'll have to," he sighed dramatically, "It’s just one part of the hell known as being married to a frigid bitch like you."
"Oh fuck off, Malfoy, I'm not frigid. I am tired though, so if you don't mind?"
Draco smothered a chuckle. It really was too easy winding Harry up and he wasn't nearly tired enough to give up on his game before he'd completely annoyed his bed mate.
"Of course you aren't," he soothed gently, grinning maliciously as he did so, "Some people just have lower sexual drives than others. It’s nothing to be ashamed of."
As expected, this resulted in Harry's sleepiness melting away into instant anger. "Look, Malfoy," he growled as he rolled over to face his smirking junior nemesis, "I've not had any complaints so far so why don't you just shut the fuck up and let me sleep, alright?"
"Sure thing, Potty, snooze away. Although I will just say that I don't think that house elves are technically allowed to complain, so maybe you should rethink their evaluations of your performance."
Harry leaned forward till his face was past the end seam of Draco's pillow, his breath spanning the distance between them, and Malfoy was mildly surprised by just how less nerdy and gentle the Gryffindor appeared without his glasses.
"House elves. That's a good one, Malfoy," Harry said with quiet venom, "But why don't you just come out and admit that all this bluster about my sex life is just your way of saying that you can't bear to be this close to me, that you can't resist me, that you want me."
Draco's bark of laughter was muted slightly by the surge of heat that suddenly flooded his face. "Oh yeah, Potter," he shot back, "I'm just fucking dying for you and the only thing stopping me from offering myself to you on a golden platter is the fear that I'm just not good enough for you."
Harry's smile could have taunted a saint into slapping him as he withdrew into his own space with a contented sigh. "Thought so," he purred, "You're right of course, you're not good enough to deserve my sexual attentions."
Had it been a normal situation, and had Draco not already been semi-impressed by just how bitchy Harry could be or at just how his extra warmth made the bed seem that much more inviting, he might have shot the cocky Gryffindor down with a minimum of words. But instead Draco lost his temper.
"Not good enough? Not good enough for a bloody Gryffindor? I don't think so, Scarhead! If you were lucky enough to be blessed with the honor of touching me you'd be spoiled for both genders for the rest of your annoyingly prolonged life! You don't just move on from a Malfoy, no sir! You'd go into withdrawal, you'd probably never get over it. Merlin, I've had restraining charms placed on people I've slept with just to get them to realize I don't want their sorry asses anymore! You wouldn't know what hit you, Potter. One night with me and you'd be my number one fan!" As he blurted out this amazingly immodest monologue, Draco sat up so he was leaning directly over Harry's smug, smiling face, stabbing at his chest with one elegantly pointed digit.
"Oh, Malfoy," Harry chided gently, with a somewhat more than slightly mocking glance, "A whole night? I think not. I've seen you after Quidditch practice. You're a fucking mess and that's after you've only spent an hour or so on your own broom." His eyes shimmered with mischief as he sat up slightly, nearly nose to nose with his 'husband', Malfoy's hand still digging into his chest. "You wouldn't last three seconds riding mine," he purred, deliberately letting a lascivious look creep onto his face.
A deep flush crept into Malfoy's face as Harry's meaning suck in and, reveling in the shocked look on his adversary's features, he pushed Harry back down with a harsh caress to his chest, leaning over him till he could feel the Gryffindor’s slightly quickened breath against his lips.
"Been watching me then, have we, Potter? Should have told me, I would have put on a special show in the showers for you sad fucks who can't deal with their obsession with me." Harry glared and made to speak, but Draco silenced him by pressing his face ever closer, "And as for the three second thing, Potter, you'd better bring a pillow because I can last longer than you can stay conscious."
With this final riposte, Draco formed his mouth into a bow, blowing the now seething Potter a kiss. The Gryffindor gasped, his breath leaving him in a rush as Draco pushed down on his sternum with force, using the movement to sit back up. The Slytherin rolled away and slipped back into his original position with a smug look on his face.
"Now, now darling," he scolded softly, sensing the Gryffindor’s growing ire, "Isn't one of the points of this arrangement to learn restraint and forgiveness? We don't want this to lead to our losing yet more points, now do we? Let’s call this one a draw before you upset yourself, there's a good boy. Goodnight, then. Sweet dreams."
Draco counted at least 45 seconds of the brunet's harsh breathing before he responded with a stilted 'Night' and he smothered a giggle as he felt Harry sigh and snuggle deep into the blanket once more. He waited until he thought the Gryffindor might just be slipping into a pleasant doze before speaking up again.
"Potter?" He smiled as he felt rather than heard Harry's groan of annoyance as he lifted his head slightly.
"Yeah, Malfoy?"
"Wanna spoon?"
TBC.
Therefore, it is with a great admission of my own guilt and a huge sigh of relief that I finally post this fic..... I'd love to say it was a joint effort but tho a good bit of the writings mine, all the heart in this belngs to Angel... atta girl hon, the beast FINALLY is going up.
Challenge:
Due to an outbreak of several fights amongst the Gryffindor and Slytherin 7th years--physical and/or magical--the faculty decide that the Gryff and Slyth teens must get "married" as punishment with members of the enemy house. It's a school project (really it's punishment) to promote tolerance between the two houses for the last month of the school year until graduation. Each "couple" must shift around their schedules so that they have classes together, eat meals together and share their own separate dorm together because they will be magically bonded to their "partner". Requirements are:
1)The way the faculty chooses the "couples" is up to you. It doesn't matter who else gets paired up as long as Harry and Draco get paired together and completely throw a fit.
2)Harry and Draco, despite their hatred, get their groove on (in other words: SMUT) at some point.
3)The magical bond between each couple prevents each person from hiding from or storming off from his or her partner.
4)The project (punishment) will be graded. Low marks will be given every time to any couple who cannot get along.
5)Draco and Harry cannot get along. (And the hilarity begins!)
Title: Exploited Privileges
Author: dreambastion and ladyvader (Angel and Kim)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Draco, other minor pairings
Rating: NC-17 overall
Series: 4 of 4 parts
Summary: Harry and Draco are forced to 'marry' as part of a punishment... (orignal challenge posted prior to fic)
Author Web Page: Tainted Decadence and Strange Infatuations
Archive: Various archives
Feedback: Dreambastion@hotmail.com & LadyVader1998@hotmail.com : Feeeeeed me, Seymour!
Warnings: Graphic sex, violence, language, overall silliness
Disclaimer: It's called fiction for a reason - cause it ain't true
Beta: The ever lovely Linda - we would be nothing without her
Notes: This is written (2 years late) in answer to a challenge issued by our friend Nightshade24
Dedication: For Nightshade24 - we can only hope that we met your challenge and that you enjoy the fic, darling *smooch*
Week 1
Dumbledore sat at the head table in the Great Hall, his eyes wandering over the students, focusing on nothing, but seeing all. A disturbance at the back of the room drew his attention, and he sighed upon realizing that it was yet another fight between soon-to-graduate seventh years. He watched as Blaise and Ron lashed out at each other, Draco and Harry trying to separate them. He wasn't so far away that he couldn't see Draco and Harry glaring daggers at each other as well, but they at least had been somewhat behaving themselves of late.
Dumbledore wondered how much worse things would be right now if Harry hadn't defeated Voldemort last summer. If the Death Eaters-to-be that had been too young at the time were still now serving their Dark Lord. Thankfully, that all seemed to be behind them, and this past school year had gone well. Draco and Harry, Hogwarts' resident rivals, still fought, though not as frequently as they had. Draco had refused the mark when Voldemort had called for him, for reasons that no one at Hogwarts knew, save Draco, Snape, and Dumbledore. He knew Harry didn't want to trust the younger Malfoy, but at least he was willing to trust in Dumbledore's judgment. It had brought a bit of peace, knowing that Harry was willing to try not fighting with Draco because Dumbledore admitted he trusted the Slytherin.
Dumbledore relaxed slightly as Draco and Harry began pulling their respective friends away from each other. He was about to turn to Minerva and comment on it when Blaise and Ron suddenly lunged away from their referees and towards each other once more. Dumbledore gritted his teeth and stood quickly.
"That is enough!" his stern voice boomed across the hall, his hand slamming down on the table for emphasis, the echo reverberating around the rafters. Everyone in the hall froze, the students and teachers alike. Blaise and Ron were balanced precariously against each other, in the middle of what looked to be a hair-pulling contest. Harry winced and Draco looked bored.
"I have had enough of this foolishness from you seventh years. You are about to graduate, about to enter the world as adults, and it is high time that you started acting like it!" Dumbledore exclaimed, muttering curses under his breath. McGonagall turned to him and opened her mouth to speak, but he waved her away.
"I want you all to return to your common rooms. All of you," he repeated, interrupting the mutterings of the younger years, "and I want the Slytherins and Gryffindors to consider what you have been doing. Tomorrow, after dinner, the seventh years from those two houses will remain here in the hall. That should afford me enough time to think up a suitable punishment for you." He stood looking out over the hall, his normal twinkle missing completely from his eyes. No one moved as they all stared at him, bewildered.
"I said go!" he yelled, pointing towards the door. Students of all ages scrambled for the exit, anxious to escape the Headmaster's wrath. When all the students were gone, Dumbledore dropped into his seat with a bone-weary sigh, his fingers rubbing his eyes tiredly.
"Well, that was quite a display, Albus. And just what do you intend to do to punish them?" McGonagall asked, her tone slightly frosty with disapproval. Dumbledore raised his head and looked at her wearily.
"I don't know just yet, Minerva, but I will think of something," he replied.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
Dumbledore sat at the head table and watched as all but the seventh years from Gryffindor and Slytherin filed slowly out of the Great Hall, hoping to catch some hint about what the punishment was going to be. But the teachers ushered them out and everyone inside waited until the doors were closed firmly behind the younger students, and only Dumbledore and the two respective Heads of House remained with the antsy soon-to-be graduates. Dumbledore stared silently out over the remaining young adults, letting them fidget under his gaze for a while before he stood.
"I want all of you to move up here to the head of your respective table," he began, motioning the students forward. He waited until they were all settled in the closer seats before he began speaking again, softly, his tone carrying more weight than if he had yelled at them again. "I have decided what I will be setting as the punishment for your recent disregard for proper behavior. You show a decided lack of desire to get along, and this type of attitude will only damage you in the future. Learning to work with others, even those you may consider enemies or rivals," he paused and looked pointedly at the Ron and Blaise, "is vital to your adult lives. So, I will help you in your endeavor to learn to exhibit self-restraint and more maturity than you have been showing lately. And to do this, I have decided that you will be sorted into pairs, and you are to be 'married' to your partner for the remaining month of school until graduation."
Eyes widened around the room, students and teachers alike. McGonagall and Snape both opened their mouths to protest, but Dumbledore silenced them with a firm glance. He looked out over the students, who were looking around at each other with confusion and slight fear showing clear in their expressions. Draco alone seemed uninterested and bored with the proceedings as he idly picked at his fingernails.
"Tomorrow, you will stay after dinner again. The Sorting Hat will be used to place you with a partner. Once your partners are assigned, a spell will be cast that will remain in effect until the day before graduation. This spell will serve a variety of functions, all important to the lesson that I am trying to teach you. One of the main factors of this will be a proximity spell that will not allow you to stray too far from your partner. Another aspect of the spell will affect the grade you will receive once the punishment is complete. It will act in such a way that I will know when you are fighting with your partner, and points will be taken away. And, vice versa, when one member of this pair does something nice for the other, points will be added. Schedules will be adjusted so that each of you can attend classes with your partner," he explained, raising his hands for silence when voices rose from both tables in protest, "Arguing with me will do no good. This is what I have decided on, and it will be done. You may all return to your common rooms now."
Muted grumbling followed the students out the door, the rival houses taking care to distance themselves from each other. Snape's mouth was set in a tight, thin line as he watched until the final student was gone. Only then did he turn to Dumbledore, cutting off McGonagall, who was starting to voice her own opinion.
"Headmaster, I understand that you believe you are teaching them a valuable lesson, but I believe that this may be, quite possibly, the dumbest thing you have ever done," the Potions Master stated bluntly, ignoring McGonagall small gasp of shock at his audacity. Dumbledore merely smiled indulgently and nodded.
"It may very well be. And it also may very well be just the catalyst we have needed to get these two houses to see eye to eye. Only time will tell, Severus, and we'll leave it to that, shall we? Now, Minerva," he interrupted when she once again tried to speak, "I know what you will say, and the same goes for you two that I said to the students. Arguing with me will accomplish nothing. Now, I'm tired, so I shall retire and I will see you two at breakfast tomorrow." With that final note, the Headmaster turned and walked from the Great Hall, leaving two gaping teachers staring dumbfoundedly after him.
"Well, that was interesting," McGonagall said after she finally found her voice again.
"That may be the understatement of the year, Professor," Snape replied dryly as he stood and stalked off to his quarters, his robes billowing out behind him.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
The following night dinner was a quiet and subdued affair. The Slytherins and Gryffindors involved in the punishment were virtually silent, leaving the other houses and the younger students of their own houses to ponder what could possibly be happening with their peers. The seventh years had kept the punishment to themselves, despite many attempts from others to find out what was going on. Most of them considered it embarrassing enough without everyone in the school knowing about it.
When dinner was over, the majority of the students were once again herded out of the hall, leaving those from the night before. Dumbledore walked into a small adjacent room and returned with the Sorting Hat and a stool while the students once again moved to the head of their tables. Their expressions were mostly the same - irritation, embarrassment, indignation.
"When I call your name, you will come forward and take a seat on the stool. I will place the Sorting Hat on your head, just like when you were sorted into your houses. Once everyone has been tested by the Hat, it will announce the pairs," Dumbledore explained. He looked down at the scroll in his hand and was about to call the first name when the Sorting Hat spoke up.
"Before we do that, I would like to sing the song that I prepared," the Hat said, already drawing a deep breath to begin his song and ignoring the groans from everyone around it.
"Oh, no, there won't be any of that. We don't have time for a song," Dumbledore interrupted. The students and teachers alike silently cheered the Headmaster, and some not so silently, but the Sorting Hat wasn't daunted by Dumbledore's firm tone.
"Come now, there is always time for a song. It's not even very long. Oh, look, I just made a rhyme!" the Hat chuckled gleefully and began drawing another breath, but Dumbledore was determined.
"No, there isn't time. We need to get the sorting done and over with. No song," he reiterated. The Sorting Hat frowned and turned its eye slits up to glare at Dumbledore.
"Now, see here, old man. You wake me up months before I'm needed. You tell me that I have to partake in this idiotic punishment, that, quite frankly, is the dumbest thing you have ever done, and that's saying something. And then you tell me I can't sing my song? How dare you? Just who do you think you are? If I don't get to sing, then I don't do the stupid sorting," the Hat argued. And with that said, the Sorting Hat pressed its lips firmly together and stared at the floor. Dumbledore brought his arm up so that the Sorting Hat was at eye level and shook it hard to get its attention.
"Listen here, you old saddle bag. You will do this sorting, and you will do it right now, or so help me, I'll make sure that you end up on the bottom of someone's shoes!" Dumbledore threatened. The Sorting Hat narrowed its slits at him like a petulant child and tried to glare him into submission. When it became clear to the Hat that it wasn't going to win, it huffed and puffed and parted Dumbledore's beard with its sigh.
"Fine. Let's get this mess over with, shall we?" the Hat conceded grudgingly. Dumbledore began calling names and placing the Hat on the students' heads. The whole while, the Hat was muttering to itself about old wizards and senility and rudeness. Harry Potter was one of the last to come to the front, and the Hat had an odd sense of deja vu as the boy sat down and let Dumbledore place the worn leather on his head. The Sorting hat could hear the mantra that was echoing through the Gryffindor's head.
'Anyone but Malfoy...Anyone but Malfoy...Anyone but Malfoy'
'Oho, so it's this again, is it?' the Hat thought to itself, 'Well, we'll just have to see about that. Not letting me sing my simple little song. I'll have my fun, one way or another.'
Once the last student had been to the front, Dumbledore laid the scroll on the table and waited for the Sorting Hat to begin announcing the pairings. It took its sweet time, pretending to leisurely consider each partnership before calling out two more names. Ron flushed red enough to match his hair when the Hat paired Hermione with Blaise Zabini, and the red turned almost purple when he saw the nasty look that Zabini directed at Hermione. Finally, as the list began to dwindle, and it was becoming obvious that there weren't too many available partners left, the Sorting Hat decided to play it's trump card.
"Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy!"
The Hat smirked as shocked silence reigned supreme throughout the Great Hall, followed soon after by loud voices vehemently demanding that the Hat should be made to change it's mind. The loudest voices of all were those of the Ron and Hermione. Harry just let his head drop forward onto the table with a groan and a loud thump of his forehead connecting with the old oak planks. Dumbledore tried to quiet the students, and explained that what the Sorting Hat declared had to be abided by, though he was shooting the offending leather object some pointed glares because he knew the Hat was up to deliberate mischief.
Draco Malfoy sat smiling slightly, seemingly unconcerned with the decision that the Hat had made. Actually, he was inwardly gloating, thinking about how he would just owl his father and tell him all about this silly punishment, and how the Sorting Hat had done the ridiculous thing of pairing him with that prat Potter. Father would take care of everything and all would once again be right in Draco's world.
Dumbledore had finally managed to silence the students and the two professors when another thought occurred to Draco. Father and Mother were gone! Out of the country! It would take days, or even weeks for the owl to find them and bring back a reply, and even longer if Father had to travel here in person to fix this mess, which wasn't likely, given the circumstances behind his 'vacation'. Nothing could be done about this fiasco. Draco Malfoy was going to spend the next month married to Harry 'Bloody Prat' Potter. Draco leapt to his feet with a cry of distress, his voice echoing off the stone walls and floor. He blushed, something he rarely did, because it was bad for his appearance, then sat down quickly and buried his head in his arms.
"Now that everyone is once again quiet and calm, let me clear up a few other details of this punishment. You will be sharing a room with your partner. The rooms will accommodate two twin beds and the location of each partnership's room will be determined randomly based on available space in each dormitory. That means that some Slytherins will be in Gryffindor Tower and some Gryffindors will be in the Slytherin dungeon. If any one involved in this abuses the fact that you know the other House's password, I will know, and believe me, another altogether less enjoyable punishment will be meted out," he paused to make sure they took his warning to heart, and considering how 'enjoyable' the current punishment was, most of them understood clearly what he meant, so he continued, "Now, you will be moving into your new rooms tomorrow. I suggest you go tonight and get your things packed. Tomorrow, while you are in classes, your Heads of House, along with myself, will take care of the room arrangements."
The students stood with a dejected air and moved slowly through the heavy doors of the hall. Once again, Snape was gritting his teeth until the last student was out and the doors were firmly closed behind the group.
"Now see here, Dumbledore. You can't mean to let this go on! I mean, Potter and Malfoy paired together? Do you want their mutual deaths on your conscience? Because that is what will happen before the month is out, mark my words," Snape declared. McGonagall nodded vigorously in agreement.
"I think you are wrong, Severus, and you as well, Minerva. I believe everything will work out just fine. I'm going to have a spot of tea. Would either of you care to join me," he asked. When both shook their heads, he turned to leave, but paused at the door, "Oh, and, professors, you will be responsible for the students that will be residing in each of your houses, regardless of which house they actually belong to. Kindly remember that throughout the following month." He looked pointedly at Snape, who narrowed his eyes at the implication, before leaving and closing the door firmly behind him, once again leaving two completely bemused teachers in his wake.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
Draco was already standing in front of the statue guarding Dumbledore’s office when Harry arrived. Harry could hear Draco cursing the statue from a few corners away and knew that the Slytherin didn’t know the password to get in.
“Arguing with it doesn’t do a bit of good, you git,” Harry muttered as he stepped up and spoke the password. Harry saw Draco glare at him from the corner of his eyes and was about to say something when the statue turned and Draco bolted up the stairs to the headmaster’s office.
“Hey!” Harry cried out, leaping to a late start to try to beat the blond to the door. Harry was just behind Draco when they both went bursting through the door without knocking, startling Dumbledore out of what looked suspiciously like a nap at his desk.
“What is the meaning of this?” Dumbledore demanded. Harry and Draco both began speaking at the same time.
“Professor, you can’t seriously mean to…”
“I’ll kill him before I’ll be married to him…”
“Strangle him in his sleep…”
“My father will have your hide for…”
“I swear I’ll shave him bald and leave him in the Great Hall naked…”
“Probably try to molest me in my sleep…”
Both Harry and Draco froze when they heard the other’s last statement. They glared daggers at each other.
“Having fantasies about me already, Potter, and we aren’t even sharing a room yet,” Draco challenged with a slight purr in his voice that contradicted the look in his eyes.
“You couldn’t get that lucky, you narrow-minded, twisted little prat,” Harry countered with a snort of derision.
“If that’s what you consider lucky, then I’m glad I don’t qualify, you disfigured glory hound,” Draco retorted, turning so that he was fully facing Harry. Harry took a step forward, pushing in Draco’s personal space.
“Listen, you bleach-blond, can’t fly, non-snitch catching daddy’s boy…” Harry was just getting warmed up when Dumbledore cut him off.
“Gentlemen, that will be quite enough of that. These types of attitudes are what have gotten you and your classmates in trouble in the first place. There are absolutely no arguments that you can use that will make a difference in my decision, nor will any threats about fathers who are currently tanning on a tropical beach somewhere that the ministry has no jurisdiction,” Dumbledore said, his eyes focused pointedly on Draco with the last comment, “Now then, both of you back to your respective rooms.” He stared at them, silently, until they both hung their heads and shuffled out the door.
“Prat,” Draco muttered as a parting shot as they both reached the bottom of the staircase.
“Git,” Harry responded as he headed down the hall away from the Slytherin.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
Draco was muttering to himself as he charmed his clothing into his wardrobe and trunk. He heard the door open behind him and his muttering increased in volume. He turned to find many of his Slytherin classmates crowded into the doorway of his room. Blaise stood at the forefront of the group, his arms folded over his chest, staring expectantly at Draco.
“What, Zabini? What do you want?” Draco snapped, cursing as he had to refold a shirt that he had let fall to the floor.
“Look, Draco, we want you to fix this,” Blaise said as though those few words made all the sense in the world.
“Fix what, exactly? The punishment? Sorry, can’t help you,” Draco replied and turned his attention back to his packing lest he allow something to get folded wrong and end up wrinkled.
“Owl your father, Draco. He’ll stop this,” Pansy said from behind Blaise. The others in the group nodded in agreement, murmurs echoing softly in the room.
“My father is who knows where, and it would take ages for an owl to find him. And if he did decide to come back to take care of this, which he probably wouldn’t do, considering…” Draco paused and waved his hands vaguely, “considering everything, then it would still take him ages to get back here. By the time he could do anything about it, the punishment would be mostly over, and what good would it do to bring him back from his vacation?” Some of the Slytherins grinned at Draco’s choice of words, knowing full well that Lucius Malfoy probably did not view his involuntary exile as a vacation.
“Come on, Draco, you have to do something,” Blaise whined, his voice taking on a girlish edge that had Draco gritting his teeth in frustration.
“NO! No, no, no, no! I can’t! Now get out!” he yelled, stalking across the room and pushing at the mass of bodies. The last thing Draco heard before he slammed the door in their faces was Blaise’s angrily muttered reply.
“Some leader you are,” the other boy said.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
“Look, this is my room, so you can just find space for your crap where it will fit, but I am not getting rid of anything of mine,” Harry argued, doing his best to stare down the irritating Slytherin standing in the middle of the room.
“One item of my clothing is worth more than everything you own, Potter, so we will be rearranging what is in this hovel you call your room, and we will be doing it to my specifications,” Draco said firmly, his wand out as he levitated Harry’s dresser to the furthest corner from the beds so that he could place his wardrobe right beside his own bunk.
“NO! Why should I have to walk across the cold floor to get to my clothes while yours sits right by your bed?” Harry yelled as he moved his dresser back over towards its original place. He pointed his wand at Draco’s wardrobe to move it back and was greeted with a seething blond suddenly in his face and a wand poking him in the ribs.
“You will turn your wand another direction, Potter, and you will do it now, or you will regret ever even looking at my wardrobe cross-eyed,” Draco threatened, shoving his wand further into the flesh of Harry’s torso to emphasize his point.
“Sheesh, fine. If you want to be a self-centered, egotistical prick, then be my guest,” Harry huffed and stomped over to flop himself down on his bed.
“Thank you, darling, for being so accommodating,” Draco said gleefully and Harry barely resisted the urge to throw his pillow at the gel-haired prat. Harry stayed on his bed watching as Draco arranged and rearranged the room so many times that the brunet lost count. He sighed with relief when the blond finally surveyed the room one last time and nodded his approval.
“There. Now it’s somewhat livable,” Draco said and turned towards his wardrobe, Harry assumed to make sure the move hadn’t wrinkled any of his socks. Harry grudgingly admitted (only to himself, mind you) that the layout of the furniture was actually quite convenient to the both of them, except for the fact that his dresser was still against the far wall. There wasn’t much room to move around in the small room, but at least it was livable, as Draco had said.
Harry was forced to rethink that admission the next morning. He attempted to get out of bed, but he forgot to put his glasses on, and he ended up stepping on the foot of one Draco Malfoy, who was also just waking up. The blond let out a howl of pain that reminded Harry of a dying hippogriff and clutched his foot as he fell back on his bed.
“Potter, you monster, you’ve broken my toes with your flipper feet,” Draco whined. Harry sighed irritably, a habit that he had noticed a decided increase in since the day before, and put his glasses on. He grabbed Draco’s foot, ignoring the protests of the dying blond, and inspected the offended toes.
“Malfoy, there isn’t a thing wrong with your toes, so get up and do be quiet. My head hurts enough this morning without your caterwauling to add to it,” Harry said and dropped Draco’s foot, secretly enjoying the thump it made on the stone floor and the real exclamation of pain that the Slytherin uttered at the bump.
“Caterwauling? If you think that was caterwauling then you should hang around the Slytherin dorms more often. There is no sound in the world quite so obnoxious as Pansy when she and Goyle are going at it,” Draco countered. Harry felt his stomach lurch at the thought and he knew that his face must have turned green, judging by the smirk on Draco’s face.
“That was a mental image that I really could have lived the rest of my life without, thanks,” Harry said as he stripped off his pajamas to get dressed. Draco shrieked, quite like a girl, and covered his eyes with both hands.
“Merlin, Potter, at least go in the other room to do that! Are you trying to blind me?” Draco asked. Harry snorted and shook his head.
“You’re the one who looks like you live in a windowless room, Malfoy, so don’t talk to me about blinding people,” he said. Draco glared at him, gathered up his clothes and stalked into the adjoined bathroom to get ready for the day.
Two hours later he came out. Harry looked at his watch, looked at Draco, back at his watch, back at Draco. After a few more rounds of this, Draco finally snapped.
“What? You think you can look this good without taking the time to achieve it?” he asked impatiently, “I mean, its obvious you don’t put any effort into your own appearance, Potter, but other’s around here do have an image to maintain.” Harry decided it was best to not reply to that comment, so he walked into the bathroom and silently picked up his brush. He swiped his hair with a few quick strokes and walked back out to put on his shoes. He was surprised, though he reasoned he shouldn’t be, when Draco walked back into the bathroom for the second time that morning. After he had finished tying his shoes, Harry walked over to see what Draco was up to and leaned in the open doorway.
Harry found Draco standing in front of the mirror double and triple checking that his hair was perfectly in place. Harry barely restrained a snort of laughter when Draco winked at his reflection, but he was unable to control his amusement when Draco’s reflection made a kissing face back at the blond.
“God, you really are in love with yourself, Malfoy. And here I thought it was just a summer fling,” Harry said with a smirk. He grinned when Draco deigned only to turn his head slightly so that he could glare at Harry from the corner of his eye, while Draco’s reflection chose a more direct method and offered its middle finger.
“Laugh all you want, Potter. I know it’s really jealousy that makes you say such things,” Draco said in a frosty tone, still glaring at Harry in the mirror. Harry shook his head and walked out the door without responding to the blond. He returned in a few seconds, clutching his stomach, only to find Malfoy doing the same.
“I guess we know what the proximity spell feels like now,” he said. Draco grunted in reply and pushed passed Harry to walk out of the room. He seemed to rethink something at the doorway, and he came back and grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged the brunet along with him. Harry just shook his head, again, which was becoming another increasingly annoying habit, and followed his new ‘spouse’.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
Draco took his usual seat at the Slytherin table despite the glare he received from Harry. He may have to spend most of his time with the bespectacled git, but he would be damned if he would willingly give up his seat at his house’s table just because of this stupid ordeal.
Draco only made it halfway through the meal before the queasy feeling in his stomach forced him to change his mind. He stood and stalked over to Harry, glad that his assumption had been right and that the sickness was being caused by the proximity spell. He shoved a Creevey out of the way and plopped elegantly into the spot at Harry’s elbow. Now, one might think that it isn’t possible to plop elegantly, but if anyone could, it would be a Malfoy. His plopping quickly garnered him glares from the surrounding Gryffindors, but he simply smirked at them and began filling a fresh plate. He noticed that it wasn’t long before many of the seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins were playing musical chairs so that they were situated more closely with their spouse, though most of the Slytherins chose to take over the neighboring table rather than actually sit at the Gryffindor bench as Draco had done.
Draco looked at Harry and noticed that what he had previously thought was a calm face, a face of one supposedly unaffected by the spell, was actually covered in beads of sweat, and Harry’s jaw had obviously been clenched tightly against the sickness he had felt.
“So, you felt it, too?” Draco asked. Harry only nodded in return, wiping his forehead with his napkin and letting out a shaky breath as he began eating again. Draco glared at him and poked him hard in the arm as he continued, “You felt it, too, but you would rather sit here and suffer than move closer? And I thought you were a chivalrous person by nature, Potter.” Harry turned and Draco was pleased to note the fire of irritation that he had sparked was growing in Harry’s gaze.
“I will never sit at the Slytherin table, Malfoy. Never. And not even this spell can make me change my mind on that,” Harry said firmly. Draco quirked one eyebrow at the brunet and smirked.
“Are all Gryffindors really this stubborn, or is it just one of your more charming personality traits… darling?” Draco asked, adding the endearment as an afterthought. He was pleased once again when Harry’s head whipped round and he glared at Draco.
“Do not call me darling, Malfoy,” Harry ordered, and Draco simply laughed and continued eating, knowing he was infuriating the Gryffindor even more.
Draco was still chuckling several minutes later, much to the disgust of the others around him. He was beginning to think that this punishment might have its upside after all.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
"Look, all I said was the two beds take up a lot of space. It was not, as you put it, a shockingly machiavellian, yet disturbingly perverted Gryffindor trick to get in bed with you," Harry said with a disgruntled sigh as Draco continued to throw him disgusted looks from the other side of the room.
He began again, surprisingly sick of the silent treatment from his newfound roommate. "Don't you remember, Malfoy? Only yesterday you remarked how annoying it was to have absolutely no room to swing dead cats in here, I said why would you want to, you said had I not met Mrs. Norris...?" He trailed off with a sigh, then said, "Believe me, the very 'last' thing I want in this world is to share a bed with you, but 'something' has to go and you threatened to hex me into the next millennium were I to, and I quote, lay a single filthy Muggle-loving, house-elf shagging, rotten son of a flobberworm hand on your wardrobe."
Malfoy sighed long-sufferingly, "You could never hope to understand the bond between myself and fine clothing, Potter, no more than I will ever understand your liking for that disgusting thing you were talking to Granger about.... Marmite, was it?" He shuddered delicately and continued, "Like tar on bread... disgusting! Anyway, you only wish you were lucky enough to share a bed with me. I've known wizards and witches who've threatened suicide at the prospect of not sleeping with me."
"I imagine it's the ones who do sleep with you that actually bump themselves off then?" Harry shot back with a snigger that met an abrupt death on the receiving end of an icy glare from Draco.
The blond's eyes narrowed before a slow smile spread over his face, alarming Harry with how it suddenly seemed to make Draco's eyes shine just that much brighter with intent. "Jealous, are we?" the Slytherin purred, moving to stretch out on his bed, "You can't handle the thought of having me beneath the same sheets as you every night, can you? It’s just too much temptation for a goody-goody like yourself."
Harry snorted with contempt, fighting the blush that threatened as the image of Malfoy's ivory skin stretched out beside him popped unbidden into his head. "Please," he muttered and Draco smirked.
"See?" he quipped, quirking an eyebrow, "You're already begging for the chance and I haven't even agreed yet."
Potter merely rolled his eyes at this, having learnt by their enforced proximity that to continue this argument would only lead to the unsuccessful suppression of highly violent impulses and just at that moment he somehow felt he shouldn't get that close to the platinum pain. Withdrawing his wand, he turned to face the wardrobe, lips parting to utter a dismantling spell when he found himself roughly tackled from behind.
"What. Did. I. Say. About. The. Wardrobe?"
Harry gasped under the weight now pinning him to his own bed, face pressed into the blankets, "Touch it and.... Die?"
"Precisely."
Harry sighed heavily, part of him enthralled by how he felt the steady weight of Malfoy rising and falling with his breath as the blond lay across his back. "Fine then... no changing the beds, no changing the wardrobe, we can just fight over space for the next few weeks until one of us kills the other."
Draco clucked above him. "Well, there's no need for that tone, Potter," he muttered crossly and Harry had to stifle a laugh at how much Malfoy reminded him of Mrs. Weasley at that point. He felt Draco rummaging around in his own robes and idly wondered why he hadn't made to get off of him yet and whether he should tell Draco to do so when a sudden muttered command made him squeak and clutch the covers as the bed shot across the room to slam against its counterpart with enough force to topple Malfoy so that he tumbled down to lay beside Harry. Sitting up quickly as suddenly two silver gray orbs were just that little bit too close for comfort, Harry noted with surprise that the two beds were now merged and nestling quite cozily in just one corner of the room.
"Hey," Harry noted with approval, " Nice job." He turned to smile down at the prone, smug Slytherin and consequently realized that he'd have to accustom himself to being as close as he was to him in such a position. He blushed at the knowing gleam in the ice blond's eyes.
”Oh no, Potter," he drawled, sitting up quickly, "No trying to picture me under you. That won't be happening anytime soon. Merlin's beard, I just knew you'd go all sex-maniac if we had to share a bed. Not that I blame you, of course, you're just a pathetic, helpless virgin, and it's my own fault for being just so damn irresistible."
Harry scowled and flipped him the bird, reaching around to rearrange the pillows at far sides of the mattress, "Well, sorry to tell you, Malfoy, but I don't need to imagine you under me because you'll 'always' be beneath me. And if you think I want to share this bed with you anymore than you want to share it with me, then you're even more deranged than I thought. And virgin? Virgin? Ha!"
Draco quirked an irascible eyebrow and rolled smoothly off the bed onto his feet. "Whatever, Potter, and I'd give up on the pillow shuffling because no matter what you do we're still sleeping next to reach other. I guess I'd best go put on my least enticing pajamas and, Potter... 'Not' a virgin? What'd you do? Finally say yes to a Creevey?" As Malfoy turned towards the wardrobe a pillow hit him in the back of the head doing the unthinkable and mussing the previously supposed unmovable platinum strands.
"I'll have you know, Malfoy, that no matter how 'enticing' you may think you are, you're the only one in this room to think so. Furthermore I'd like to just say 'Yuck' and point out that I lost my virginity to a girl." With this smugly delivered speech, Harry hopped off the bed, pulled his jumper over his head and walked over to the wardrobe to retrieve his own flannel pajamas.
Malfoy snorted and began undoing his shirt buttons with jerky annoyed movements. "Yeah, sure thing, sweetums," he snapped, "You had sex with a female and I'm Hagrid's love-slave." He whisked his shirt off with practiced ease and placed his hands on his slim hips in a way he knew showed his physique off to its greatest advantage, glaring at the brunet now chuckling as he shrugged into his pajama top.
"Wow, I can't believe it. You and Hagrid, eh? Can't say I saw it coming. In fact, I can't think of anything that might horrify me more to imagine."
"You know what I mean, Potter. You’re gayer than Lockheart and twice as stupid if you think I'm going to believe otherwise."
Harry paused in his undignified shucking of his trousers, standing with them pooled about his feet in just his undone pajama top and boxers, "Wait, wait a second here, Malfoy. You don't believe that I've done it with a woman?"
"Nope," Draco smirked, trying to not notice how oddly sculpted Harry's slender chest appeared beneath the loose material.
"Well, then this should throw you for a loop, because I think you should know I've slept with three girls and none of them seemed to find it hard to believe."
Draco gaped, "Ok, aside from the fact that you're a hideously disfigured troglodyte who I cannot picture attracting anyone, I've had it on the best authority that you're gayer than the entire Wizarding Synchronized Flower Arranging team put together."
"Well, I'm not quite that bad, but I am bisexual, if that's what you mean, Malfoy, and besides, you're one to talk. I saw those pictures the Creevey's took last year and while, in fairness, you couldn't see exactly what was going on, you looked pretty damn queer to me."
The Slytherin sneered and slowly unfastened his trousers. "And dare I ask just how long and for what purpose you were examining these pictures, Potter? Because if for any reason they affected you then you'd better turn away now before I take any more off. We wouldn't want you making a mess of yourself, now would we?"
Harry scowled fiercely, kicking his trousers away and stalking over to Malfoy, his tone dripping with sarcasm and saccharine. "Oh god yes, Draco, you're all I can think about. I actually bribed Dumbledore into setting up this whole marriage task because I was just dying to be near you. And the beds? They weren't taking up that much room, I just want the chance to slide up next to you in the middle of the night and ravage you against your will."
Draco lifted one perfect platinum brow. "Well, there's a shocker," he drawled before snatching up his pajamas and stalking into the connecting bathroom to change. Harry rolled his eyes, spluttering for a moment for a suitable reply before snarling and kicking off his boxers, throwing on his pajamas and plonking himself down on their now joint bed to idly charm his clothes into the laundry hamper. After a moment he sighed heavily and crawled to the far side of the bed, settling himself beneath the covers with a resigned air that disguised the nervous churning in his stomach. He was just settling into a nice haze of warmth and drowsiness when Malfoy emerged from the bathroom with a blast of fragrance and heat.
"Decided to cleanse and freshen up, not that there's much point after all, because I'll be irrevocably tainted as it is and... just what do you think you're doing, Potter?"
"Well I was trying to sleep, but..." he was abruptly cut off as Draco stormed forward.
"Don't be stupid, Potter. Consider where you're laying. Before they were merged, that side would have been my bed, so move before I have to torch it all to make it habitable."
With a groan of impatience Harry shuffled himself over to the other side, fussing gruffly as he realized that part of the mattress was cold and frowning as Malfoy climbed over him, snuggling down into his former cozy spot with a long suffering sigh. "Merlin, Potter, it's roasting over here. Do you give off quite enough body heat?"
Harry groaned softly and nuzzled his head deeper into the pillow. "Would it be too much to ask you to just shut the hell up, Malfoy?"
A mocking laugh made its way past the drowsy haze pervading Harry's mind. "Oh dear, is my poor sweetums too tiwed to piwwow tawk wid me?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Malfoy?"
"Yes, dearest?"
"Go fuck yourself."
Draco's amused grin spread to full on evil smirk as he regarded the silky black locks presented to him at the far side of the bed. "Guess I'll have to," he sighed dramatically, "It’s just one part of the hell known as being married to a frigid bitch like you."
"Oh fuck off, Malfoy, I'm not frigid. I am tired though, so if you don't mind?"
Draco smothered a chuckle. It really was too easy winding Harry up and he wasn't nearly tired enough to give up on his game before he'd completely annoyed his bed mate.
"Of course you aren't," he soothed gently, grinning maliciously as he did so, "Some people just have lower sexual drives than others. It’s nothing to be ashamed of."
As expected, this resulted in Harry's sleepiness melting away into instant anger. "Look, Malfoy," he growled as he rolled over to face his smirking junior nemesis, "I've not had any complaints so far so why don't you just shut the fuck up and let me sleep, alright?"
"Sure thing, Potty, snooze away. Although I will just say that I don't think that house elves are technically allowed to complain, so maybe you should rethink their evaluations of your performance."
Harry leaned forward till his face was past the end seam of Draco's pillow, his breath spanning the distance between them, and Malfoy was mildly surprised by just how less nerdy and gentle the Gryffindor appeared without his glasses.
"House elves. That's a good one, Malfoy," Harry said with quiet venom, "But why don't you just come out and admit that all this bluster about my sex life is just your way of saying that you can't bear to be this close to me, that you can't resist me, that you want me."
Draco's bark of laughter was muted slightly by the surge of heat that suddenly flooded his face. "Oh yeah, Potter," he shot back, "I'm just fucking dying for you and the only thing stopping me from offering myself to you on a golden platter is the fear that I'm just not good enough for you."
Harry's smile could have taunted a saint into slapping him as he withdrew into his own space with a contented sigh. "Thought so," he purred, "You're right of course, you're not good enough to deserve my sexual attentions."
Had it been a normal situation, and had Draco not already been semi-impressed by just how bitchy Harry could be or at just how his extra warmth made the bed seem that much more inviting, he might have shot the cocky Gryffindor down with a minimum of words. But instead Draco lost his temper.
"Not good enough? Not good enough for a bloody Gryffindor? I don't think so, Scarhead! If you were lucky enough to be blessed with the honor of touching me you'd be spoiled for both genders for the rest of your annoyingly prolonged life! You don't just move on from a Malfoy, no sir! You'd go into withdrawal, you'd probably never get over it. Merlin, I've had restraining charms placed on people I've slept with just to get them to realize I don't want their sorry asses anymore! You wouldn't know what hit you, Potter. One night with me and you'd be my number one fan!" As he blurted out this amazingly immodest monologue, Draco sat up so he was leaning directly over Harry's smug, smiling face, stabbing at his chest with one elegantly pointed digit.
"Oh, Malfoy," Harry chided gently, with a somewhat more than slightly mocking glance, "A whole night? I think not. I've seen you after Quidditch practice. You're a fucking mess and that's after you've only spent an hour or so on your own broom." His eyes shimmered with mischief as he sat up slightly, nearly nose to nose with his 'husband', Malfoy's hand still digging into his chest. "You wouldn't last three seconds riding mine," he purred, deliberately letting a lascivious look creep onto his face.
A deep flush crept into Malfoy's face as Harry's meaning suck in and, reveling in the shocked look on his adversary's features, he pushed Harry back down with a harsh caress to his chest, leaning over him till he could feel the Gryffindor’s slightly quickened breath against his lips.
"Been watching me then, have we, Potter? Should have told me, I would have put on a special show in the showers for you sad fucks who can't deal with their obsession with me." Harry glared and made to speak, but Draco silenced him by pressing his face ever closer, "And as for the three second thing, Potter, you'd better bring a pillow because I can last longer than you can stay conscious."
With this final riposte, Draco formed his mouth into a bow, blowing the now seething Potter a kiss. The Gryffindor gasped, his breath leaving him in a rush as Draco pushed down on his sternum with force, using the movement to sit back up. The Slytherin rolled away and slipped back into his original position with a smug look on his face.
"Now, now darling," he scolded softly, sensing the Gryffindor’s growing ire, "Isn't one of the points of this arrangement to learn restraint and forgiveness? We don't want this to lead to our losing yet more points, now do we? Let’s call this one a draw before you upset yourself, there's a good boy. Goodnight, then. Sweet dreams."
Draco counted at least 45 seconds of the brunet's harsh breathing before he responded with a stilted 'Night' and he smothered a giggle as he felt Harry sigh and snuggle deep into the blanket once more. He waited until he thought the Gryffindor might just be slipping into a pleasant doze before speaking up again.
"Potter?" He smiled as he felt rather than heard Harry's groan of annoyance as he lifted his head slightly.
"Yeah, Malfoy?"
"Wanna spoon?"
TBC.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-02-15 03:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-15 04:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-15 06:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-15 07:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-15 12:37 pm (UTC)I loved it. Their interaction is marvelous.
no subject
Date: 2005-02-15 03:32 pm (UTC)Glad you like it so far :)
no subject
Date: 2005-02-15 03:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-15 05:57 pm (UTC)really wicked fun, can't wait to read the next chapter!
no subject
Date: 2005-02-15 07:51 pm (UTC)How've you been? I barely log in anymore so I am out of the loop on everyone. That needs to be rectified immediately.
no subject
Date: 2005-02-17 08:51 pm (UTC)Don't make me come down there!!