All Bets Are Off

ALL BETS ARE OFF

Chapter one

Harry Potter the Sex God

Harry Potter sauntered into the Great Hall with a swagger that should have been poncy, but for some reason was just plain sexy. He was extremely late, in a fashionable sense of course, for breakfast, owing to a very Long Night.

He glanced around and smirked complacently. He had rather a lot to smirk about, he supposed, taking in the large number of eyes that shifted unerringly to mark his entrance, and the somewhat lesser but still gratifying number that lingered on his...er, attributes.

It wasn't an easy job being the Gryffindor sex god extraordinare. But, it had its perks.

Wandering over to the Gryffindor table, Harry languidly seated himself between Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley, who had, as always, strategically left him a place. Hermione mumbled a greeting but didn't look up from her copy of "How to Transfigure your Loser of the Month into the Man of Your Dreams". Ron was going to need to keep an eye on that one. Ginny didn't actually manage to get out a single syllable today; instead, she blushed profusely and turned back to her oatmeal. Harry hid a smile. Some days were better than others with Ginny - hell, she had even managed a 'hi' yesterday. However, she couldn't be expected to get that far today.

Today, Harry was wearing his tried and true Sexy Black Outfit. The results were predictable.

Ron was the only one in the vicinity to give Harry a decent smile.

"Morning Sunshine," he chirruped sweetly. "Bit late this morning eh? Bit of a long HARD night??" He then sniggered.

Harry sighed.

For some reason, Ron still thought it was amusing to make irritating and unsubtle sexual pseudo-connotations at the breakfast table.

With the amount of 'long, hard nights' Harry had put in over the past two years, one would have thought he might have recognised the redundancy.

But then, Ron was Ron. And he was still Harry's best mate. So Harry gave him the requisite smirk, and replied, "Yeah."

Ok, so that didn't have the wit and more subtle sexual pseudo-connotation you were expecting, but it was early god-dammit and it had, after all, been a Long Hard Night.

"So who was it last night?" Ron asked. "She was loud."

Harry had long since figured out that the use of silencing charms on your bed curtains didn't necessarily keep your horny roommates from listening in on your nocturnal activities.

With a token pretense at gentlemanly hesitance, he smiled and replied, "Err...I really shouldn't tell you - It was Whatsername from Hufflepuff, you know, the one with the amazing-...."

Harry'd have gone on in that vein for potentially some time, but was rudely interrupted by Whatsername from Hufflepuff storming into the Great Hall on cue, all dishevelled and looking like she had just fallen out of someone else's bed. Which she had. It was all very sudden and coincidental-like.

Her eyes lit on Harry and she actually snarled.

"Harry James Potter, how DARE you leave me without saying goodbye this morning!"

"Oh, bollocks," Harry murmured morosely. It really was a tough job being a sex god.

She was stalking over now, hands balled into fists and looking like either an avenging angel or a ripped-off prostitute. Or something halfway between the two.

"D'you have any idea of how it FEELS to have the best sex of your life, and then not wake up next to that person in the morning?? How could you just LEAVE? Didn't it mean anything to you? Don't I mean anything to you?"

This was a potentially nasty one, mused Harry. Was it a trick question? Or was it one of those questions that guys always get wrong, no matter how they answer, like "do these robes make my arse look fat?" He never did figure out the answer to that one.

"Hrm," said Harry eloquently, with a charming smug smile that usually made them swoon and stop talking immediately.

"That's all you've got to say for yourself?? You've broken my heart and you can't even come up with a decent sentence? You're a complete BASTARD, Harry Potter, and I hate you, I hate you, I HATE Y-..."

Harry lost his non-existent patience.

"Well, if that's how you feel..." Harry said, a mocking pretense at unhappiness fading behind a cheerful smile, "Why don't you run along? Surely you can't want to be in the same room with me..."

The Hufflepuff looked at him with disbelief.

Harry grinned. "I'm crying on the inside," he said with upmost sincerity and conviction.

He then started forking up scrambled eggs nonchalantly.

The Hufflepuff burst loudly into tears and ran from the room.

Harry watched her go for a moment, then yawned and turned back to his eggs.

Hermione looked up, a disapproving expression on her face. "Harry, that was unkind."

"Look, Mione, if I wanted whining at the breakfast table, I'd've brought a Jack Russel, wouldn't I?"

Ron sniggered.

Hermione frowned.

Harry relented, "Okay, fair enough, the sarcasm was probably over the top, but I told her from the start that there would be no strings attached. You know I can't get involved with anyone...Voldie could come back and then I might get Dead! And then where would Whatsername be, hmm? Very Sad, that's what." Harry sighed theatrically.

Hermione ignored him as was usual, and proceded to lecture him on the important points of feminine emotion and how to circumnavigate them.

Harry tuned her out and, with the most mocking bored expression on his face, surveyed the hall. Some were looking with unfeigned curiosity, some with admiration, and a few with anger. Oddly enough, most of those were female Hufflepuffs. Well, they'd get over it.

Only one pair of eyes, rather beautiful ice grey in a porcelaine face, stared at him with absolute and utter loathing. Harry stared them down, and they dropped away. Harry didn't know whether to feel superior or bereft.

* * * *

Across the room at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy growled. Bloody Potter and his theatrics, he thought bitterly. Can't even get one peaceful breakfast around here without one of Scarface's groupies making a scene. What in Merlin's name do they see in him anyway?

Draco looked at Harry. It was becoming a habit. Tousled black hair that begged for hands to tame it, sooty lashes outlining those green, green eyes that flashed and brooded beneath sharp black brows, the bone structure of some sort of godlike thing, and a body that should have been hewn from marble and placed somewhere for all to gawk upon and say 'yes, that is pretty much the most attractive body I have ever seen'.

Draco looked away again. Bloody Potter. How unfair that he should be so hot, when he really was such a knob.

That wasn't to say that Draco himself wasn't pretty. He was. But Potter was Hotter (as someone once rather irritatingly pointed out using flashing badges). And that pissed Draco off a whole hell of a lot.

He went back to his favourite passtime. Shredding toast and pondering the ways in which he could possibly get Potter once and for all...

* * * *

Back across at Gryffindor, people were starting to leave and go about their daily business. Most, including Ginny, headed for the library. It was a Saturday, but homework was piling up, especially for the sixth and seventh years. Harry was stll eating his breakfast and perusing Ron's Daily Prophet. He looked thoughtful. Hermione was not alone in hoping he was having second thoughts about the way he had treated the Hufflepuff.

Suddenly he sat up.

Everybody left at the table waited for an epiphany.

"I think...." Harry said.

Everyone forgot to breathe.

"I'm really bored," he finished.

The collective sigh of un-surprise could've blown a house down.

"I need a challenge. I'm sick of sleeping with these insipid Manhattan debutantes....no wait, what I meant was I think I need a new interest in my life. I mean all I do is school, quidditch and sex. It's getting old."

Ron looked at him squint.

"What the hell, may I ask, is wrong with that lifestyle?" he said, gawking at Harry as if he had a flobberworm growing from his left ear.

"Absolutely nothing, Ron. You are dead right. Meh. What was I thinking?" Harry replied, looking shocked at his own idiocy.

Ron subsided. Hermione rolled her eyes. For a second there, it had looked like Harry might've grown up. It was probably too much to hope for, in any case.

Harry, finishing with his paper, stood up abruptly. "What's on the agenda for today, guys?"

"Ron and I are doing homework," Hermione interjected very quickly. Ron had that crestfallen and heartbroken expression usually reserved for someone who has just received news that their favourite dog has died unexpectedly whilst they were on holiday.

"What, am I not invited?" Harry pouted fretfully.

"Of course, Harry. It's just...well, you haven't actually studied in so long, I rather thought you'd forgotten how."

"Don't be dumb, 'Mione," Ron interjected. "He's just had so many girls offering to do it for him that he'd be an idiot to bother. I mean, I'd LOVE to have someone do that for me..." He trailed off hopefully.

Hermione ignored him. The crestfallen look made it's triumphant return.

"So DO you want to study wth us today, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Nope. Not really," Harry replied with a saucy grin. "Just making sure you still love me."

"Uh, yeah," said Hermione faintly, going pink. Now it wasn't that she FANCIED Harry or anything stupid. He was just very, very pretty when he smiled like that. She WAS heterosexual, after all.

"So what'll you be up to, mate?" Ron asked, still hoping for an out. 'Say quidditch practice' his eyes pleaded Harry, 'and give me something besides study to do!'

"Erm, I think I'll go and visit with Hagrid. And then send Sirius and Remus a letter. I'll see you guys later," he said, grinning evilly at Ron, who frowned rather ferociously. His expression turned angelic as Hermione turned to him with a smile.

"Let's head to the library then, shall we?" she ordered. "I want to look up Shangdo roots for Herbology, and you still have that Potions essay to start."

Ron muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like 'trucking oceans', and Harry smiled as he turned away. Ron was so hen-pecked, it was like looking at chicken feed with red hair.

He was still grinning and shaking his head when he looked up and met the eyes of a pretty blonde standing directly in his way. He gave her an apologetic smile and made to move past her, but she shifted until she blocked him again. He was not in the mood for flirting. I mean, he was only just finished breakfast. He might get heartburn. But, as a sex god, he had obligations.

His smile turned swanky and seductive. "Hiya Jen," he said to her cleavage as he looked her up and down unsubtly.

"Hello," she replied, matching his grin with one of her own. "Haven't spoken to you in a while, Harry. How've you been?"

"Oh, you know. I get there. You?" he replied.

"Never better."

"Got any interesting plans for today?" he asked idly, with a knowing smirk that made her eyes darken with interesting possibilities.

"Not really."

"Care to take a walk?" Harry asked, refraining from looking at his watch by sheer force of will.

"Love to."

Hm. Short sentences were all very well, but she seemed to be incapable of stringing more than two words together. Then again, Jennifer Mews was never going to win Jeopardy. She was one of Harry's more regular 'acquaintances'. He didn't 'acquaint' with her for her brains.

Holding out his muscular arm in a courtly fashion, Harry smiled as she took it possessively. Continuing on their way out to the lake, one of Harry's favoured snogging spots, he was somewhat surprised to hear her come out with a complete sentence.

"It's so cool the way you never let yourself get tied down, Harry," she cooed in what he supposed she thought was a seductive manner.

"That's me," he replied carefully, turning to her, "free and easy."

His devastating smile was ruined though, when he found himself rudely shoved from the other side. His escort was unimpressed to be suddenly released, and fell down rather clumsily. She sprawled on the floor in a most unladylike manner.

"Well, certainly EASY in all senses of the word," came a drawling, sarcastic voice. Harry knew without looking who it belonged to.

"I see you still haven't managed to sort out the whole walking-without-bumping-into-innocent-bystanders thing yet Malfoy. Well, never mind. Keep at it, you'll get there one day," Harry said blandly, as he righted himself and helped a spitting Jen to her feet.

Draco looked Jen up and down. "ANOTHER one, Potter? Two in the space of twelve hours...You'd better be careful. I hear it's possible to shag yourself to death."

"Well, you'll never find out, will you? Last I heard, you were coming EIGHTH on the Slytherin sex tally. Must be devastating. There's only about ten boys IN Slytherin," Harry said with a smile.

"And you'd know, having had half of them!" Malfoy spat. It was a well known fact that Harry swung both ways. "And I heard you were the outright winner of the Gryffindor 'most likely to have Gonorrhoea' poll. Congratulations, you must be very proud." Malfoy's smirk put Harry's to shame.

"Unlikely. I'm actually very selective about who I sleep with, unlike you who take whichever pureblood slut you can get," Harry replied, with a wink in Jen's direction. She preened at the implied compliment.

Malfoy watched this byplay with distaste. "Can't do without it, can you Potter," he sneered, lip curling with disgust.

"Not really, no. But then, I've never had to, unlike you." Harry laughed, and taking Jen's hand, turned to head out the front doors.

"I bet you couldn't either," Draco said musingly to his back. "You wouldn't be up to the challenge."

At that, Harry paused. His brow furrowed. A challenge, eh? Hm.

He turned back to the smirking blonde, eyebrows raised.

"You reckon?" he asked, tilting his chin up inquisitively and looking at Draco down his nose. He knew Draco hated it. Malfoy had never quite gotten over the fact that Harry had grown three centimetres taller than him the previous year. It made him feel very inadequate. And small also.

"Yeah, I reckon," Malfoy replied through gritted teeth.

"Would you care to make a wager on that?" Harry invited flatly, giving Draco a once over and, to his irritation, liking what he saw.

Draco flushed a little. "Sure, what's a little pocket change for the entertainment of watching the famous Harry Potter try to keep it in his pants. Say a thousand galleons?"

Harry smiled.

Jen looked between the two boys dumbly, not understanding the subtleties of the conversation but seeing her chances of a quick and entirely ecstatic shag with the famous and exceptionally talented Harry Potter behind the boatshed heading south for the winter.

"Come now Harry," she giggled. "You don't really want to do anything like that! I mean, think of all the fun you'd be missing..." Jen let her voice trail off suggestively and left a sexy pout on her lips.

Harry gave her a thoughtful glance. She did have a point.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Should've known. You really are quite the slut, Potter. Keep this up and there'll be nary a girl, or boy, in Hogwarts you haven't had. You don't have the guts to go without."

"Did you just say nary?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Yes. Let's not make a big deal of it. My point, in case you missed it because of the nary comment, was that you are too much of a coward to take up a challenge like this Potter."

Gryffindor stupidity reared its ugly head. Without thinking, Harry said hotly, "I'm no coward Malfoy and you know it."

Draco's eyes gleamed. Jeez, it was so EASY when they were proud AND stupid. "Prove it," he challenged. "No sex for a whole month. That's thirty days, Potter. Thirty days and thirty LONG nights. No kissing, no licking, no fondling, no sucking, no biting, no touching of any kind, and definitely no shagging. What do you think?"

Harry smirked. Malfoy had definitely thought about this.

"Oh, and Potter...No wanking either."

Harry went puce. What the hell was he going to do with himself, not being able to do anything with himself? Gods, he was in trouble and he knew it. Still, the Gryffin in him made him hold out his hand. Draco took it without hesitation.

"Thirty days," Harry said bravely.

"And thirty nights." Draco laughed, squeezing Harry's hand viciously, and then turning to stalk off down the corridor. He was only missing the evil mwahaha to make his exit complete....wait, no, there it was, echoing from down the corridor. Exit complete.

Harry turned to Jen, whose face was scrunched up like she was about to cry.

"Rain check?" he asked, running a finger down her cheek. Seemed that this whole two word sentence thing was catching.

"Guess so," she replied morosely, and she too turned and walked away.

Harry was left alone in the corridor, wondering what the bloody hell he'd gotten himself into.