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The Wand Game	By : ReverieWilde Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 21843 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters in it. I make no money on the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
〪o 〫O〬 o〭

October 15 1998

“And she jacked you off right there next to the library? Blimey Harry. It must be good to be the chosen one.”

“Stop it, Ron. I’m not the chosen one any more. I was more like the accidentally chosen one anyway.” Harry paused and grinned. “But yeah, she did.”

“Lucky bastard.”

Changing the subject Harry asked, “Any progress with Hermione?”

Ron shrugged. “It’s hard to tell. She’s speaking to me. Sometimes. Lavender keeps pestering me, though. It’s like sixth year all over again. Lavender is there, ready and more than willing. But all I can think about is Hermione.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw that Hermione had quietly stepped into the common room. He could tell she’d heard what Ron said by the small smile on her face. Harry decided to try and help Ron along.

“Did you apologize?” he questioned.

“About a billion times. She only says ‘okay’. But she doesn’t say she forgives me.”

“And you’re sure you want her back?”

Ron sat up straighter and gave Harry a scowl. “Do you think I’d be so fucking miserable if I didn’t? I could go out and get Lav right now if I didn’t want Hermione back. I’d go to that party tomorrow night if I didn’t want her back. I mean, sure, the prospect of fooling around with someone new is exciting. Don’t get me wrong. Who wouldn’t want to be wanked by Daphne?”

Harry winced. He was hoping Ron wasn’t going to undo all of the good he just did by going on about another girl. That, and he didn’t want Hermione to know what he did.

“You?” Harry asked, prodding him in the right direction.

Ron shook his head. “I was just looking for a little . . . spice, you know? But I was looking for it in the wrong place. I never should have gone to that bloody party.”

“So, go tell all that to her.”

Revealing herself to Ron, Hermione smiled softly. “He just did.” She walked closer to him. “I heard everything you said. You’re really not going to the party?”

“No. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Then perhaps we can have our own private party.”

Ron’s eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” She slipped her hand into his. Squeezing it tightly, she warned him, “But if you ever do anything like again, I’ll throw a severing charm at you. A specific part of you.”

Swallowing hard, Ron nodded. “Now we have to get you and Ginny back together and everything will be back to normal.”

“Ron . . .” Harry didn’t know how to tell Ron that his feelings for Ginny were gone, beyond the friendship.

“I’m afraid that ship has sailed,” Hermione told them. “Ginny is over it.”

“Over it? You mean, she’s over Harry already?” Ron demanded to know.

“It’s a good thing, Ron. We’re through. She deserves someone less confused. It’s all right,” Harry assured him. “We’re still friends.”

“Confused about what?” Hermione frowned.

Harry shook his head. “Nothing. I’m simply not ready to be in a relationship right now is all.”

Hermione was skeptical, but let it go.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

October 16 1998

Friday night at half-nine, a parade of Gryffindors went through the common room past Harry, reading at a desk. He glanced up.

“Aren’t you coming Harry?” Parvati asked.

He cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow.

“The wand party. Aren’t you coming?” she repeated.

“Oh. I wasn’t planning to. No.”

“Why not, Harry? Afraid you’ll get Malfoy again? Or afraid you won’t,” Seamus laughed.

“I’m afraid I’ll get you and I’ll have to spend the entire night kicking your sorry arse.”

“I’m only kidding Harry,” Seamus changed his tune. “I know you’re not the ponce.”

Harry wondered if Seamus was implying that Draco was. He had heard rumors. And by the fussy way Draco went about carrying himself, it was easy for Harry believe it could be true.

“You should come, Harry,” Romilda chimed in. “It’ll be fun. What are the odds you get paired with Malfoy again?”

Closing his book, Harry rose from his chair. “You know, I think I will go.”

He joined his fellow Gryffindors as they snuck down into the dungeons and gave a special password for use only as entrance to the party. It looked to be the same crowd as before, minus Ron and Hermione. Lavender slipped next to Harry and asked where Ron was.

“He and Hermione decided to have their own party. Just the two of them.” It gave Harry great satisfaction to tell her that bit of news. Lavender appeared supremely disappointed, but made her way around the room, talking to prospective partners. Harry made his way around as well, speaking mainly to fellow Gryffindors. But Daphne managed to corner him several times.

A few minutes before midnight, Blaise called for everyone’s attention. As they did previously, guests began retrieving wands in order by lottery. This time around, it went much quicker.

Harry had gotten a parchment bearing the number four and was glad he would have more choices this time round. When it was his turn, he handed Blaise his paper and reached into the cauldron. Groping around, Harry felt nothing at first. He reached in further, his fingertips grazing something smooth. A little stretch and he was able to grasp the wand. When he pulled it out and looked at it, the disappointment showed on his face.

He sighed and started to return the wand to the cauldron.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Pansy asked.

“I’ve chosen my own wand,” he told her. “Aren’t I supposed to put it back and pick another?”

“That’s not your wand,” a weary voice said quietly.

“Yes it . . .oh. I forgot I gave it back to you.” Harry looked at Draco’s wand in his hand. “Bloody hell. Accio fucking wand,” he grumbled. His own wand, formerly Colin Creevey’s, rose to him.

“You’re mistaken if you think I’m any happier about this than you, Potter.”

Harry heard Seamus trying, and failing, to stifle a giggle. He was next to choose after Harry and drew Daphne’s wand from the cauldron. “Better luck next time Harry,” Seamus laughed.

Draco and Harry were not the only pair to be repeated. Parvati chose Michael’s wand, and Millicent chose Justin Finch-Fletchley, the boy who always seemed to be called by his full name, even though there were no other Justins. In addition, Pansy was paired with Theo, Blaise with Harper, Ginny with Dean, Astoria with Neville, Ernie with Luna, Tracey with Anthony, Susan with Romilda, and Padma with Lavender. Three of the four latter girls were displeased with the outcome.

Millicent protested. “This isn’t fair. I had to walk around with ass ears and a tail all week because of him. I don’t want to be his partner again.”

Pansy smirked. “But this time you are the chooser. You can have him do whatever you want. Or don’t want.”

Millicent narrowed her eyes. “Maybe.” She thought a second. “Come on Finch-Fletchley, you’re going to clean my room.” Justin garnered many a sympathetic look as Millicent dragged him up to her dormitory.

On the other hand, Parvati seemed rather pleased to have another chance with Michael. After a few butter beers at the last party, he was most charming, not the shy boy he normally was. And this time, she was in charge.

Like before, couples wandered off to private areas leaving Harry and Draco standing uncomfortably close in the Slytherin common room.

“Oi, mate,” Blaise walked to Draco, with Harper close behind. He whispered something in his ear, and Draco nodded. Harper smiled self-consciously at Harry, then averted his gaze. After talking to Draco, Blaise grabbed Harper’s hand and took him into the boy’s dormitory.

“We may as well stay here again. I’ve been kicked out of my room,” Draco said.

“So, is Harper . . . a willing participant?”

Draco smirked. “Are we playing twenty questions again?”

“I suppose we could.”

“It’s your call Potter. You chose my wand,” Draco reminded him.

“All right. We’ll take turns asking questions again. For every question I ask you, you can ask me one. Answers must be honest, and complete.” The tip of Harry’s wand began to glow and he felt a change in his magic. Draco felt it as well. “What was that?”

“I guess that was the game binding us to your rules.”

“I didn’t feel that last time,” Harry commented.

“I wasn’t holding my wand when I made my request. I wonder if Pansy knew that you have to be holding your wand for it to be binding?”

They stood still a moment, then shrugged it off. It wasn’t a big deal for them, they were only asking questions. However, Harry had a few that were of a more personal nature this go round.

“Another game of chess?” Draco inquired.

“You know you’re going to win again.” Harry sighed. They had nothing better to do. “All right.”

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

“So, what do you want to do?” Dean asked awkwardly.

“Um, I suppose we could go to the Gryffindor common room,” Ginny replied.

“I think Lavender said she and Padma were going there.” Dean hesitated. “Don’t you have your own room now?”

“Oh. Yes, I do.” Ginny bit her lip. As the chooser, everything was her call. “Okay, we could go there.”

Ginny wasn’t sure what to expect or even what they’d do once they got there. She and Dean walked silently until they reached the room she shared with Michael. When they walked in, Parvati was straddling Michael’s lap and they were snogging, heavily.

“Oops,” Ginny said.

Parvati gasped and hid her face in Michael’s shirt.

Chuckling nervously, Michael apologized. “Sorry, Ginny. I didn’t know you were coming back here.”

“Uh, no problem. We’ll just go in my room.” Ginny took Dean’s hand and pulled him into her bedroom.

“They didn’t waste any time,” Dean laughed.

“Yeah, I had no idea she was actually interested in him. I had no idea anybody was interested in him.”

“Why? What’s wrong with him?” Dean asked.

“Nothing really,” she shrugged. “He’s just . . . we dated for a while. He’s a bit whiny is all. Darn it. I wish I’d grabbed something to drink before we came in here.”

“Want me to go back out and get something?” Dean offered.

“Would you? I really don’t want to see them again.”

Dean listened at the door for a moment before cracking it open. He glanced around the small common room. “They’re gone. I guess they went into his room.”

“Good. Grab the pumpkin juice. I’ll get the crisps.”

Dean and Ginny snacked while they sat on her bed and talked. Summer plans to classes to failed romances were among the many topics they discussed.

“Why did you and Harry break up? Everyone thought you were perfect for each other.”

“Maybe we knew each other too well before we got together. I’d had a crush on him for so long and he was practically part of my family. He probably thought of me more like his little sister.”

“He must be mental, then,” Dean muttered.

“Sorry? I didn’t catch that.”

Dean brushed Ginny’s cheek with his hand. “I know I didn’t treat you that well when I had the chance.”

“But that was two years ago. We were young and inexperienced. We’re past that.”

“Yes, we are,” Dean agreed.

He leaned close to Ginny, but stopped short of kissing her. When she didn’t move away, he closed the distance. His lips were so different from Harry’s. So thick and full. Ginny forgot how much she liked to kiss them. His fingers gently ran through her hair. Hers rested gently on his firm chest.

He broke the kiss and leaned back to look at her. “Is this okay? I mean, do you mind me kissing you? You chose my wand, you get to say what we do.”

Blushing slightly, Ginny admitted she didn’t mind. In fact, she was enjoying it. She had originally gone to the parties for the purpose of getting herself good and shagged. For obvious reasons, that didn’t happen with Blaise. But now, facing Dean, she thought maybe she could find more.

“I don’t know what your intentions were for attending the party, but now that we’ve been paired up again . . . I was thinking perhaps we could give it another go,” Ginny proposed.

“You’d give me another chance?” Dean seemed surprised. He knew he wasn’t the best boyfriend Ginny’d ever had.

“We had some good times,” Ginny smiled. “It wasn’t all fighting.”

He took Ginny’s hand in his. “If you do, I’ll make sure you don’t regret it. I promise to do better this time.” He had been a bit of the jealous type and they argued every time she simply had a conversation with another boy. “I won’t be a possessive prat like before. Ginny, I still really like you.”

“I still like you too.” Ginny wrapped her arms around Dean’s neck and pulled him closer. They kissed and slowly sank down onto the bed until they were lying down, legs entangled, bodies pressed closely together.

Ginny wasn’t sure how long they had been at it, but she was getting tired. And although she was certain she could feel him hard through his trousers, Dean never pressed to go any further than kissing.

“We ought to get some sleep,” she murmured.

“Probably,” he whispered against her lips.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think we should . . . “

He held a finger up to her lips. “It’s all right, luv. We’ll take it slowly.”

He rolled her over to her other side and slid up behind her, draping his arm over her waist.

“Good night,” he whispered in her ear.

“Night,” she replied. She closed her eyes. She fit so well in his arms, she thought maybe this time they could make it work.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

Harry had a sense of déjà vu as Draco pulled out the bottle of firewhiskey they had drunk from the previous week. He briefly wondered if the evening would end the same embarrassing way. Harry would have to make certain it didn’t.

“I’ll start with my earlier question about Harper,” Harry said as he downed a shot of firewhiskey.

“Yes, he’s more than willing. I believe he and Blaise have had encounters before.” He drank his shot and immediately threw out his first question. “Do you have more insight into why you and the Weasley girl broke up?”

“I already answered that last time,” Harry protested.

“Ah, but this time it’s binding. You have to answer honestly and completely or pay the consequences.”

Harry paused. “Well, actually, I think I do. I think without all the hazards of the war, the need to cling to something good, we realized that we’re better off friends. She feels the same way. I don’t think we were ever really in love.” Harry felt his answer was honest, but he also felt compelled to elaborate further. “And, I want to experience other relationships, with other sorts of people.” It seemed a struggle for Harry to put it into words that were honest, yet somewhat general.

“So you want to shag a lot of girls,” Draco said simplifying it.

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you implied it,” Draco smirked.

Feeling he’d better quit while he could, Harry pondered his next question. What did he want to know about Draco? He kept his question in the same vein as Draco’s.

“Are you and Pansy an item or have you ever been?”

“We were, at one time. But we’ve had a physical relationship off and on for a couple of years. She usually comes to me when she’s in between lovers. I comply as long as I don’t have one of my own at the time. However, this game is serving as a suitable substitute.”

“How so?”

“Pansy doesn’t need me. She’s had Longbottom and now Nott.”

“What about you? Do you have someone right now?”

“That sounds like a separate question. I don’t feel obligated to answer,” Draco said.

“Do you mean that literally? Because, earlier, I felt like I was answering more than I meant to.”

“Yes, it does feel different. Your last two questions didn’t make me want to give a reply. I’m answering now because I want to.”

Harry frowned. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. It’s equally irresistible as Veritaserum.”

Taking the opportunity, Draco made his next inquiry. “Why did you save me from the Room of Requirement?”

“It was the right thing to do.” Harry immediately felt a strange force, an unseen pressure to continue.

“Not good enough,” Draco said. He could see Harry struggling.

“I didn’t want you to die, all right. I didn’t want to see anyone else die.”

“But you could have gotten Goyle and had Granger and Weasley get me,” Draco pressed.

“I wanted to get you myself. I didn’t know why. I just needed to.”

“I think you do know.”

“I knew you weren’t evil. I was in the Tower when Dumbledore was killed. You wouldn’t have done it. I thought you were worth saving. I wasn’t so sure about Goyle. And I didn’t trust Ron and Hermione to save you.” Harry hung his head. He had never admitted to himself even, that he didn’t fully trust his friends in that regard. He felt exhausted all at once. He picked up the bottle and poured another shot for himself.

Draco was truly surprised by Harry’s confession. The Golden Trio had a chink in the armor.

Closing his eyes, Harry was beginning to regret his rules of the game. He felt as though, with effort, he could resist answering the questions. But the cost was not only the exhaustion of the moment, but the consequences for the following week.

“Maybe we should stop asking each other questions,” he suggested.

“Don’t lose your nerve now, Potter. I know there’s more you want to know.”

There was.

Harry took another shot of firewhiskey, then another quickly after that.

“Did it hurt to get your Dark Mark?”

Subconsciously, Draco rubbed at his forearm. He poured himself another drink. “It was excruciating. Aunt Bellatrix and that fucking Greyback held me down. I thought I was prepared for the pain . . .”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said softly. His head was beginning to swim as he stared at the faded tattoo.

“It’s not as if it was your doing. Don’t feel sorry for me, Potter,” Draco said bitterly. He picked up the bottle and drank directly from it. Harry snatched it out of his hand and did the same.

“You’d better slow down, Potter.”

The alcohol was beginning to hit Harry and he was getting fatigued. “I want to go to sleep.”

“You can’t,” Draco told him. “It’s my turn to ask a question.” He was feeling drowsy and drunk himself. “Why were you watching me last week?”

“Sorry? Watching you do what?” Harry’s eyes began to droop.

“You were watching me sleep.”

Harry tried to clear his head, but couldn’t. The alcohol was making it impossible to resist the charm or to string together an honest, yet vague answer.

“You’re very handsome,” Harry said, slurring the word handsome. He dropped his head on the table abruptly, momentarily passing out, his glasses bouncing off his face.

Draco sat across the long abandoned chess game, his mouth hanging open like a cod fish. Despite having drunk quite a bit already, Draco felt the need to take another swig.

“Potter?” Draco reached across the table and shook Harry’s shoulder. “Potter?” he said, more insistently.

Suddenly, Harry’s head sprang up and he looked at Draco with unfocused eyes. “Are you bent?”

“I’m the Slytherin Bi that Pansy mentioned,” Draco was beginning to slur his words as well. He tried to concentrate long enough to ask his last question.

“Are you bent?”

“I don’t know.”

Harry stood, or tried to. He then crawled his way to the couch, Draco following behind him for fear of spewing half a bottle of firewhiskey all over the common room floor. They both had barely made it to the couch before passing out.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

“Do you even know how to get a girl off?” Tracey sighed heavily, irritated at Anthony.

“It’s not as easy as for a bloke to figure out, you know. It’s not like you’ve got a great big handle to grab onto.”

Tracey laughed. “It’s not like you’ve got a great big handle to grab onto either.”

“Hey,” Anthony pouted. “I’m not ready yet. It gets bigger. And maybe if you’d stop trying to tell me what to do, I wouldn’t be so anxious.”

“Fine. Just get on with it.” Tracey lay back down on her bed. She had drawn her curtains and placed a silencing charm around them as Daphne had done.

Trying his best to be nice to the difficult Slytherin girl, Anthony softened his approach. He did not want to be on the receiving end of one of the punishments if he couldn’t hold up his end of the bargain.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he asked. “It might make things easier.”

Tracey looked at him for a moment, trying to decide. He wasn’t bad looking. “Yeah, all right.”

He hovered over her and placed his mouth over the pulse point on her neck. Making his way up, he kissed her jaw, then chin, then licked across her bottom lip. Tracey closed her eyes, relaxing a bit.

Her skirt was hiked up all the way and her knickers flung off the bed somewhere, but Anthony didn’t attempt to touch her exposed quim yet. Instead, he began to unbutton her blouse, slowly, one button at a time. He pulled her to a sitting position and slipped the sleeves off her arms, then reached around to unclasp her bra. She kept her eyes closed as he removed that as well, then gently lay her back down. Next, he unzipped her skirt and pulled it off, leaving her completely nude. He had rid himself of his own clothing the moment she first pulled the curtain.

Making his way back up, Anthony nuzzled her hairy patch and kissed her belly. The anticipation of his kisses reaching her breasts caused Tracey to arch up, trying to get him there more quickly. A long, satisfied moan escaped her lips when he did. He suckled her left breast, rolling his tongue around the nipple before moving on to the other. Her body responded with a generous amount of lubrication in anticipation of intercourse.

Tracey thought she wanted a quick rubbing off, but she had to admit, it was wonderful to be given tender attention. Anthony didn’t seem the sort at first, but at the moment she was very glad to have drawn his wand.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered in her ear. “I want you to get exactly what you want.” He said it partly because he genuinely wanted to please her and partly because he wanted there to be no mistake that he fulfilled his duty.

Getting caught up in the moment, she answered, “I want you to make love to me. Make me cum. Make me feel special.”

“As you wish,” he grinned. By now, his previously unimpressive appendage was at full capacity. Perhaps it wasn’t the largest one in the locker room, but he knew how to use it.

He took her hand and placed it on his cock, guiding her to stroke it gently. It felt fantastic, but he also wanted to prove to her that he was no slouch. She opened her eyes to watch what she was doing.

“Will my handle do, now?” he put forward.

“I believe it will.”

He removed her hand and pushed her legs apart, her knees up. As he leaned forward to kiss her, he positioned the head of his penis at her entrance. She was more than ready for him. He felt a small bit of resistance as he pushed his way in. Her cries were muffled by his mouth over hers. He continued to press on, even as her cries became louder.

“Oh, Tracey,” he groaned. “You feel so fucking good. I promise to make you feel good too.” One more slow movement and he hit home. “God, you’re tight.”

He leaned back to grin at her. His face dropped when he saw a tear, then another, fall down the side of her cheek.

“What’s wrong? Am I hurting you? I’m not that big,” he tried to joke.

Licking her lips and holding her breath, she shook her head. But he could tell that she was lying.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” she answered in a small voice. “Don’t stop. You’re already in. It’s too late now.”

“Bloody hell, Tracey. Are you a virgin?”

She nodded. “Was.”

“Oh, Tracey, why did you do this? Why would you let me do this?” Anthony wasn’t an overly sensitive bloke, but he’d only had one virgin before and it had been his first time as well. It had been rather disastrous and unpleasant for the young lady. He was more experienced now, but it was still a delicate situation.

“Please. Keep going. I’ll be fine. This is what I want,” she assured him. “You promised to make me feel good.”

“I will,” he swallowed. The passion had begun to wane and he was forced to pull out. “I need to, um, get back to, uh . . . just give me a minute.” He stroked himself to get back to his earlier state while he gazed upon Tracey’s nude form. She was rather curvy and appealing in the light of the Lumos spell he cast earlier.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he questioned again.

“Yes. I’m ready.” This time Tracey watched as he nervously repositioned himself.

As he looked down, he noticed a small amount of diluted blood and swallowed hard. “Tracey? Just because you’ve popped, doesn’t mean we have to do this.”

“You promised.” He could see her eyes shining with threatening tears. If he didn’t follow through, her first time would be remembered as a fiasco.

“You’re right.” Anthony gently caressed her lips with his own, attempting to get her to relax. He knew if she were tense, it would hurt all the more.

He took his time, worshipping her body, massaging and caressing every part of her. In time, she was soothed enough for him to enter her again. Taking it very slowly, he inched further and further, distracting her with gentle touches elsewhere.

When he was finally fully nestled inside, he spoke to her softly.

“That’s the worst of it,” he told her. “I’m going to move now. Tell me if it hurts too much and I’ll slow down, or stop.”

His hips began thrusting backward and forward, firmly but smoothly. At first, she tensed back up.

“Are you all right? Just relax baby.”

Tracey nodded. “Okay.”

Feeling that she needed a bit more distraction, Anthony glided a hand down between them, into her folds. He’d had trouble in the beginning of the evening locating that magic spot for her, and he hoped he had better luck now. She made a noise that sounded a little more like pleasure and he was encouraged. Subconsciously, he sped up the movements of his hips to match his fingers on her clit.

“Have you, um, have you ever cum before?” He was embarrassed to ask the question.

“Yes.” He could see her blush, even in the low light. “But only, you know, by myself.”

“I guess I’m gonna be all sorts of firsts for you. No pressure,” he laughed nervously. “I’m going to have to stop soon, or I’ll cum before you.”

“Will it still count?”

He thought it was a strange question and chuckled softly. “It doesn’t matter where I cum, this counts. Besides, I promised to make you feel special.” He pulled out and concentrated on her. “Is that good? Tell me if you want me to do something different.”

Tracey was surprised by how much he was trying to please her. Most of her friends shared stories of their first time that were not so pleasant. A lot of the boys didn’t even attempt to bring their girls. She didn’t know Anthony other than the occasional class together, and he was treating her with more tenderness than any other boy she’d ever been with.

With a fair bit of awkwardness, she took advantage of his willingness and directed him as he requested. “A bit to the left would be better. My left, that is.”

“Oh.” He complied.

“And a tad higher up,” she breathed.

He was rewarded with a long groan. Grinning to himself, he kept his hand moving at a steady pace. The sounds she was making were keeping him turned on and he wanted so badly to be back inside her.

“Oh, yeah,” she mumbled over and over. He felt her body tense up as she strained to reach her climax. “Anthony,” she breathed out. “I’m so close.”

He leaned over and nibbled at her breast, flicking his tongue over her nipple. It sent her straight over the edge.

“Yes!” Tracey’s shoulders hunched and her toes curled while she whimpered through the orgasm. “Oh, God.”

Anthony couldn’t take it any more. He reached down and pulled on his cock roughly.

Tracey lay moaning contentedly with a small smile on her lips. When she opened her eyes, she saw Anthony leaning back on the bed wanking away. She sat up, frowning.

“I could do that for you.” She reached out and placed her hand over his. He slid his hand out from under hers and let her take over.

They kept their eyes on each other as Tracey moved her hand firmly up and down his shaft. Her other hand wound around the back of his neck and pulled him to her. They locked lips and kissed hungrily.

When he came, he groaned into her mouth while clear spurts covered both their chests. Anthony collapsed on the bed, spent.

“That was bloody brilliant,” he panted. Lifting his head to look at her, he smiled. “All of it. Are you all right?”

Nodding, she answered honestly. “Yes. I’m a bit sore, but I’m okay. You were . . . wonderful. Thank you.” She shyly lowered her gaze.

“You know, you’re very different than I thought you were. Most of you Slytherins come off as . . . “ He tried to think of a way to put it that wouldn’t be insulting. “Um, experienced and sort of demanding.”

Laughing, rather than getting angry, Tracey agreed. “In other words, slutty and mean? I think that’s because of Pansy and Daphne. We’re not all like that.”

“Yes, I realize that now,” he smirked.

“You’re not like I thought you were either.”

He chuckled. “I can only imagine what you thought of me.”

“I didn’t expect you to be so . . . so nice. Or so well put together.” She glanced down at his now slack appendage, then quickly looked elsewhere. Her hand caressed his shoulder and down his arm. “You’re actually quite fit.”

Timidly, he thanked her and returned the compliment. Sitting awkwardly, naked still, neither knew precisely what to do next.

“Um, I suppose we should get dressed,” Tracey finally suggested.

Looking down at his chest, Anthony made another suggestion. “A clean-up spell first, perhaps?”

“Right.” Tracey took her wand from the bedside table and cleaned them both up.

“It’s pretty late. We ought to go to sleep.” He bent down to retrieve the clothes he threw off in a hurry earlier. “Is it all right if we stay here?”

“If you want. The beds aren’t really meant for two, but I’m sure we could manage.” She buttoned up her blouse as she contemplated the evening. Logically, she knew it was just a game. There were no real feelings between them, despite how he made her feel. They barely knew each other and yet she gave herself to him.

After dressing, the pair gingerly slipped under the sheets, and lay facing one another.

“Well, good night,” he said softly.

“Good night.”

Tracey watched as Anthony drifted into a peaceful sleep. She herself wouldn’t fall asleep for hours, the events of the evening playing in her head over and over.

Was it possible to fall for someone she hardly knew at all in just a couple of hours? Was he simply a good enough actor to make her believe that he cared? She didn’t want the morning to come. She didn’t want to regret what she had done.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭

October 17 1998

The first thing Harry heard was the sound of giggling girls. The second thing was Draco’s voice resonating in his ear. He was yelling something at Harry. It was an odd sound, until Harry realized why.

He opened his eyes and found himself lying on top of the Slytherin, his ear to Draco’s chest.

“Get off me Potter,” Draco was pushing him down until Harry finally fell off the couch and onto his bottom.

“What time is it?” Harry asked.

The girls, Tracey and Pansy, giggled again.

“You’ve overslept boys,” Pansy chuckled. “I guess you were just so comfy, you didn’t want to get up.”

Holding his head, Harry sat on the floor, moaning. “My head is killing me. Does anyone have any hangover potion?”

“Yes, for myself. Go back to Gryffindor and get your own,” Draco told him.

Harry tried to remember what happened the night before. He did remember some of it. But not getting to the couch, and certainly not crawling on top of Malfoy. He wondered if Malfoy remembered, but it didn’t seem like the opportune time to ask. Draco appeared a bit put out.

With great effort, Harry eventually made it up to Gryffindor Tower. His friends bombarded him with questions the moment he stepped through the portrait.

“Harry where have you been?” Hermione grilled him.

“Yeah, we waited for you a little while, then we went down to breakfast. You missed it.”

Harry looked at the mantle clock. Nearly eleven. He groaned. “At least lunch isn’t too far off,” he gave a half-hearted laugh.

“Are you hungover?” Hermione peered closely into his eyes.

Harry exhaled sharply. “Yes, mum,” he answered sarcastically. “Draco and I did some serious damage to his bottle of firewhiskey. I slept right through the wands sparking this morning. I need some hangover potion.”

“Got it, mate,” Ron bounded out of the room to retrieve his stash.

Taking the opportunity of being alone with Hermione, Harry inquired about her evening with Ron.

“It was lovely. We ate by candle light and talked. About everything. We got a lot of things out in the open. I think we’re back on track.”

“I’m happy for you, Mione. Both of you.” He was sincere but his expression didn’t match.

“What is it, Harry? Is something bothering you?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. I can’t remember everything that happened last night. I think maybe I said something or did something . . . it’s probably nothing.”

He waved it off, but deep down, it was nagging at him. It was almost within his recollection. He’d told Draco something he didn’t want to, but was powerless to stop himself. If only he could remember the question.

〪o 〫O〬 o〭
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The Wand Game