One Chance | By : Addy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 21755 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
One Chance
© April 22, 2004
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all of its entities are the property of J.K. Rowling. No infringement intended.
Genre: HP/DM; M/M; Lemon; Issues of Non-Con; Light BDSM; Angst & Eventual Romance. If you have any doubts about any of these things then for goodness sake - go find some fluff (nothing against fluff, I love fluff - but right now, it just isn't 100% here)! Thanks!
* * *
Draco Malfoy sat with his Potion’s partner, Blaise Zabini, in the dark dungeon classroom and stirred the frothing cauldron that held their latest assignment.
“So are things still on for tonight?” he asked quietly, with cool calm and never once failing his attention on what he was doing. He had high marks to maintain and he never let his social life interfere. Never.
“Of course,” Blaise murmured back, throwing in a dash of dragonwood to the ingredients and smiling as the thick liquid in their cauldron turned towards the accurate shade of violet. “As if we’d let anything stop our scheduled Slyltherin orgy?”
Draco snorted and then quickly regained his composure, “You may be into group bonding, but I prefer having that one significant other – at least for the duration of getting laid,” he stated quietly and for all Snape knew they were discussing the progress of their assignment.
“That’s right, you have commitment issues,” Blaise smirked. “How could I forget that if you can’t commit to one person you certainly couldn’t commit to two or m– ev– even for the orgy.”
Draco glared at his Partner and stopped stirring for a moment to let the words sink in. “I do not have commitment issues! And it’s a party, not an orgy.” he hissed and continued stirring, breaking the momentary pause that the conversation had created.
“Hmph, maybe for you. So then what happened between you and Justin . . .” Zabini began.
“Merely an agreement to disagree . . .” Draco immediately answered.
“And then with Zachary?” Zabini inquired.
Draco’s brows furrowed together, “Zacharay who?”
“Very funny,” Blaise Zabini rolled his eyes and stopped to make a scholarly note on the transition of their potion, glancing quickly at Snape to confirm that he was still thoroughly engrossed in grading the papers from their previous assignment at his desk.
“No, no, I definitely do not have issues, commitment or otherwise,” Draco stated with a snobbish sniff and lifted the ladle from their cauldron, to set it on the desk. “Looks like we’ve earned another extraordinary grade,” he stated with smug satisfaction.
“Indeed,” Blaise stated finishing up on some notes. “So then, for this org- er party, whom do you plan on hooking up with?”
“Who says I want to hook up with anyone,” Draco stated rolling his eyes and starting to organize his things since there was only about five minutes left of the class period. He liked to be the first one out the door, not in a mad rush mind-you, but to maintain his punctual habits. “Even if it is for one quick shag.”
“Come on, there’s no way you can resist a shag, quick or otherwise,” Blaise teased, still keeping his voice low so that it remaimed private. “You’re a sex addict.”
“Zabini!” Draco exclaimed and cleared his throat, his face growing red while he checked to see if anyone had noted his embarrassed outburst. “I am not a sex addict he hissed,” and swallowed and looked around and over his shoulder quickly; and who was staring at him, equally red in the face but for lord knew what reason, was Potter. Harry Potter. “What are you staring at, Scarhead,” Draco growled.
“From what I heard, I’m staring at a ‘sex addict’, Malfoy,” Harry glared. He wasn’t going to say anything but Draco had taken that tone with him – again. It got on his nerves – he always felt the need to stand up for himself or his friends against Malfoy’s accomplished sneering.
Hermione cleared her throat, never once looking up from what she was doing, obviously trying to dispel the current events from her conscious mind.
Draco started to get up from his chair without thinking, but was dispelled of that wanted action by Zabini who grabbed him and yanked him back down.
“You wouldn’t know what sex was if Madame Pomfrey gave you a blow job, Potter,” Blaise smirked and whispered over his shoulder to the boy who lived. “Could you see this one at a Slytherin org-, er party? He’d never survive.”
“So you think,” Harry muttered.
“Mister Potter.”
Harry sighed. Blaise and Draco smiled.
“Is there something you would like to share with the class?” Snape paused in his grading of papers to stare with a firm, black gaze at the young, dark haired boy.
Harry looked at Draco straight in the eyes, one eyebrow raised.
Draco cursed the look Harry was giving him – if he said one word, one word about the party of the mention of sex-addict he’d . . .
“No, sir,” Harry shook his head and went back to making his final notes on the potion he had brewed with Hermione that day. Hermione shook her head, snorted and continued taking notes. Harry had long ago advised her and Ron to stay out of any arguments on his behalf with the Slytherins or Snape while in potions. It was just, quite frankly, a lost cause.
“Five points from Gryffindor for your interruption,” Snape growled and then, much to everyone’s relief, went back to grading papers.
Draco frowned trying to discern why Potter had backed down. It would have been a perfect moment for him to take advantage of – yet he hadn’t.
“Let me guess,” Zabini said, “you’re as confused with what just happened here as I am.”
The chime sounded and class ended.
“Set your cauldrons over on the counter by the supply rack,” Snape intoned. “Remember to leave your notes as well.”
Everyone rushed to do his bidding so that they could be gone from the uncomfortable dungeons and their teacher’s strict presence.
Blaise, knowing how Draco liked to leave almost at once, started to gather up their things but was surprised to have his friend halt his progress. “I’ve got this today,” Draco stated firmly.
Blaise paused, letting this change in habit sink in, “You’re sure?”
“Positive,” Draco nodded.
“What are you up to,” Blaise quirked an eyebrow at him.
“Honestly?” Draco asked, smiling with that rather spooky Malfoy style, “I’m not exactly sure yet.” He glanced quickly over to see, as usual, Potter finishing up for the day and the Granger girl wanting to rush off to her next academic date. He listened to confirm that his main reason for staying would take place.
“Go ahead, Hermione,” Harry smiled. “I’ll take care of this.”
Draco smirked and felt some satisfaction. This might actually work out. Crazy as it may all be – he owed Potter one for that smart remark earlier – hell, he would always owe Potter one.
“You’re sure?” Hermione asked, looking frantic to leave to get to her next class but unsure as to leaving her partner with said responsibility.
“Go on! I know you have to rush to the other side of the castle and refuse to be even a second late,” Harry chuckled.
“Thanks, Harry,” Hermione beamed and kissed him quickly on the cheek before turning and rushing out the door, nearly colliding with Blaise Zabini who stepped aside with a sweeping gesture of the arm to let a blushing Gryffindor exit.
Harry picked up their heavy cauldron and went to set it in its assigned place. He was careful not to let the thick, violet liquid spill over the edges – that would probably only earn him a detention from Snape. Harry snorted to himself out loud and set the Cauldron down, safely on the counter.
“What’s so funny, Potter,” Malfoy had come to stand next to him, placing his cauldron by the other boy’s.
“None of your business,” Harry stated quietly. He had already lost five points to ferret-boy and he would be damned if he’d lose any more because Malfoy had nothing better to do than cause trouble after class.
Malfoy felt his anger and frustration starting to boil up. Patience and understanding were two of many nice things that just didn’t seem to run in his family. When he wanted something he wanted it and by Merlin no one had better stand in his way. So having Potter refuse him an answer was just another little push to his already Potter-irked buttons that day.
“Everything is my business,” Draco stated eyeing the other boy – pushing for another response. It seemed that the only way Harry Potter would acknowledge him was if they fought.
“So you think, ‘Mr. Sex-Addict,’” Harry taunted.
Draco grit his teeth, “Yes, well,” he added smoothly, “at least I’ve had sex, Potter.”
Harry turned sharply to stare at the other boy. “I. Am. Not. A. Virgin.”
“Oh sure,” Draco brushed at a non-existant piece of fluff on his sleeve. “That’s not what I’ve heard.”
Harry started to open his mouth to further protest but Draco held up his hand quickly to silence him. This silencing only worked as he had used his other hand to procure a piece of parchment from his robe’s pocket to hand to the other boy.
Harry took the piece of paper, confused. “What is this?”
“An invitation,” Draco drawled, noticing that more and more people were starting to leave and that to go unnoticed by Snape he should do likewise and soon.
“What sort of invitation?” Harry asked, eyeing the Slytherin with distaste and suspicion.
“See Potter, I don’t truly buy that you’re not a virgin – AND,” he continued on excluding the
chance for the other boy to protest, “the reason for that is you just don’t party enough.”
“I party, Malfoy,” Harry stated and then winced at how stupid that sounded. So much for smart and suave retorts today.
“Not that I’ve heard,” Draco smirked.
“What do you mean ‘not that you’ve heard,’” Harry narrowed his eyes. He hated knowing his name was in the gossip stream any more than it already was.
“Read the note,” he stated with a dismissive wave, “take a chance.” He moved closer towards Harry, his breath touching the other boy’s ear, “Unless of course you’re too scared, in which case –“ Draco shrugged.
“You wish,” Harry stated quietly.
“You have no idea,” the Slytherin smirked and then pushed past Potter to leave all said and done.
* * *
It was a little after dinner and the boy-who-lived found himself wondering the corridors of Hogwarts by himself, thinking matters through.
Scarhead –
11:00 PM – Slytherin dorms. Password: Imperius
Dress to impress (me). And keep your mouth shut about this to the other Gryffindorks, Ravenerds and Hufflepukes.
-D.M.
Harry stared at the simple, but to-the-point note for what must have been the fiftieth time. The piece of parchment had so many creases in it from being held, folded and reviewed over and over again that it was beginning to fall apart.
There was no way – no way – he would go. Absolutely none.
‘That’s such a lie,’ he churned out at himself in his mind as he felt obliged, no felt tempted enough to entertain the thought of going. He had heard Zabini and Malfoy mention, with hushed whispers, the party earlier in Potions class. He wasn’t one to eavesdrop but when it came from those two Slytherins he had to be ready for anything. Having heard Zabini call Malfoy a ‘sex addict’ hadn’t been what he had expected to hear to say the least.
Why did the thought of Malfoy and sex stir something with an edge of curiosity in him? It shouldn’t – it really, really shouldn’t . . . Okay, but it did. Malfoy seemed dark and dangerous – add a bit of sex appeal, black silk boxers and . . . .
“Oh my god,” Harry closed his eyes and winced at himself. “We’re stopping right there.”
Harry wondered what a Slytherin party would be like. Probably the complete opposite of what Gryffindor held which normally only included games of exploding snap, chess matches, and the most devious beverage they could muster being butterbeer (oh my). No, if Harry knew the Slytherins they would do it just right. And that’s what worried him.
‘Take a chance,’ Malfoy’s voice rang in his head and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise up with a case of nerves. Exactly what type of ‘chance’ was he going to take then?
Harry sighed and folded up the note only to slide it safely into his robe’s pocket. There was no choice for it then. “You get one chance Malfoy and just one,” he muttered to himself as headed up to his dormitory to get ready.
* * *
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