The Game Continued (A Drarry fic)

The Game Began

AN: Just a warning, this story has not been edited (grammar, spelling, autocorrect, and typos). I'm in the process of editing it on my AO3 account (SimonSpeaking) and will fix all the mistakes on here when I'm done. Hope you enjoy.

He was drunk. Completely and entirely drunk.
Harry had never been able to hold alcohol well, it wasn't a particular trait of his.
He'd come along to Hermione's "interhouse unity" party to make her happy, and he was now deeply regretting that decision.
he was delighted at first (and Hermione upset) when Dean Thomas brought a bottle of fire whiskey he'd snuck in from hogsmeade.
It was a good thing overall that the alcohol made an appearance. Before Dean arrived the eighth years sat around awkwardly starring at each other in chairs the room of requirement had provided them.

Very few eighth years had returned to Hogwarts after the war, Hermione forced Ron to attend and would've forced Harry if Harry had refused.
But ever since he was 11 hogwarts was the only home Harry had ever known, and any chance he ever had to go back, he would.

It was difficult, for sure, to attend the school after all the terrible events that had happened. Every time he walked into the great hall he got flashbacks to the final duel with Voldemort- and he couldn't even think about even going down near the forbidden forest.
Honestly, Harry had no idea how Malfoy did it everyday, when he was on the wrong side of the war. When he had actually hurt people in these rooms.
Everyone had been surprised to see Draco Malfoy on the train to hogwarts that year, after all Draco had always made it known that he never liked school.
Despite his past as a death eater, the ministry let him come back, no one really knew why. After all, he had narrowly escaped getting sent to Azkaban.
Harry tried to stay out of Malfoy's life as much as possible- after giving his testimony at his trial, Harry didn't even want to hear the name "Draco Malfoy" again.
But come September 1st, there he was on the train, looking prim and proper without a hair out of place. The bastard.

Everyone in Slytherin, of course, welcomed him back with open arms but the other houses were more wary.
In fact, everyone became more wary of the Slytherin house.
During the first month of school the prejudice grew so thick you could cut it with a knife. Fights broke out almost everyday and Slytherins were getting sent to the hospital wing constantly because of jinxes and curses.
Eventually Headmistress Mcgonagall stepped in and asked Hermione to start throwing these interhouse unity parties amongt the eighth years. She hoped if the younger students saw the older ones getting along, the fighting would dissapear.
Hermione had thrown a few before this one, but Harry had refused to attend any of the previous ones. He thought the whole idea was stupid and the parties would be dreadfully boring, but in Hermione's defense they did seem to be working.
It had gotten better, that's for sure, but even as the parties continued the fighting was still always present, peering around at the students constantly. Lurking. Just around every corner.
Maybe that's why Dean brought the firewhiskey to this party, as an attempt to ignore all the social pressures and expectations they all faced.
And it definitely worked, because two and a half cups of firewhiskey later, and Harry was sitting in a circle with the other partygoers, completely shitfaced and giggling as Hannah Abbott tried to teach him how to braid Millicent Bulstrodes hair.

They were all drunk at that point, and braiding her hair had seemed like a good idea. Harry tried to do it once without knowing how, which just resulted in a lot of crying and swearing, so Hannah being the loveable hufflepuff she was, gingerly offered to help.
Everyone was completely immersed in their own conversations, but as the night grew one they gradually combined into one. Everyone was talking to everyone, regardless of their house, and Harry was starting to think maybe there was really something there about house unity.
But as the conversations droned on, everyone began to get increasingly bored and restless.
It had to be past midnight, so they were all sleep deprived, which is why Pansy Parkinson stood up and suggested they play truth or dare. After all, no one in their right mind would want to play truth or dare with this lot.
It was an idiotic thing to do, especially with this crowd, but everyone nodded enthusiastically and unanimously agreed it was the best idea they'd ever heard.