Catch 22 (Harry/Draco)

Promise?

Woes of a scion, Draco Malfoy is having serious Personal Issues, temporary insanity makes an appearance at breakfast and Harry finds out just how good Draco is with his tongue.

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11:15pm  (later that evening)

Blaise is in a very good mood. This isn't unusual, as Blaise is almost always in a very good mood. Too much sugar, his mother reckons.

He had actually been a bit miffed the other day, bloody Draco and his big mouth... but Draco doesn't know about her, and it would probably not be a good idea to tell him yet. No, not yet, he's been a mess since he came back from the holidays, and Blaise is a good friend, and good friends don't add insult to injury. Blaise can get over Draco being an arse, because Draco's been an arse for seven years, and Blaise has perfected the routine: Blaise gets fed up, Blaise storms off, Blaise gets over it, Blaise beats him with a pillow (or, in that case, nails him with a snowball) and everything is right in the world of Slytherin again.

Blaise doesn't like to hold grudges. Life's too short. Make love, not war, that is his motto. All's fair and all that.

'All right, you randy pillocks,' he exclaims, barging into the seventh-year boys' dormitories. It's already after curfew and Blaise expects to find Draco in here, but he is not present. Crabbe and Goyle both goggle stupidly at him, like a pair of ugly goldfish that see their three-month-old plastic castle and wonder, hey, when did that get here? Theodore gives a sort of nasal grunt and buries himself further in his Playwizard, shoulders hunched in his very own way of saying, you even think of touching me, Zabini, and I will eviscerate you.

'Where be-est our most humble Dragon?' Blaise demands, folding his arms. 'He has an appointment with a pillow and a game of poker, and he still owes me ten Galleons from last time.'

Crabbe and Goyle look at one another. Crabbe shrugs, and Goyle says, 'He told us to fuck off.'

'That doesn't sound unusual,' Blaise says dismissively. 'Oi, Theodoros, our personal favour from the heavens, could you possibly take your eyes off that witch's tits for two seconds and—'

'Haven't seen him,' Theodore informs him shortly. He graces Blaise with a sharp look. 'Probably wanking off. Why don't you go join him?'

It must be torture, Blaise thinks, for someone like Theodore, who is perhaps the only thing in the Universe straighter than a ruler, to have lived with him for so long. Anything queerer than an earring in one ear and he starts twitching violently. Blaise has been trying to wear him down, but all it seems to do is wind him up further.

Not that that discourages Blaise, or anything.

He grins suggestively at Theodore. 'Spiffing, I think I just may. Care to join us? The more hands the merrier—' and Blaise bolts from the room before Theodore's hex hits him; he can hear it collide with the door as it slams behind him.

Blaise makes a quick stop at the Prefects' bathroom; Draco is not a Prefect this year—Theodore is; something about Draco's hexing the staff toilets to burp frogs while McGonagall was still 'engaged' and not making quite the clean get-away—but that doesn't stop them from all knowing the password. Finding it empty, Blaise knows that there is only one other place Draco would be at this hour, and—double checking corners to avoid Peeves, Filch and Filch's batty old cat—he takes the fastest route towards the Great Hall.

It's an ingenious place to go after curfew, really. Draco started doing it in their fourth year, and Blaise often joins him. Most students go to stupid places like the Astronomy Tower or, if it is warm enough, out to the pitch; but nobody ever thinks to go to the Great Hall, which has its enchanted ceiling so you can see the sky but also the advantage of privacy and climate control. Closed for the night, its tables have been stripped of their House colours, and the room is big, stony and dark with four long, identical oak tables and the smaller staff area at one end. The sky overheard is clear, and a million stars are winking down at him, giving him enough light to navigate the chairs without making a heinous amount of noise.