Draco Malfoy Harry Potter
Romance Humor
Multiple Eras
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix
Published: 06/06/2004
Updated: 06/06/2004
Words: 4,916
Chapters: 1
Hits: 4,894



Story Summary:
It’s Harry’s eighteenth birthday party, and he and Draco make drunken conversation which may lead to something more. Involves secret identities, autographs, kissing, tickling, and a bit of “Who’s your daddy?” Slash.

Author's Note:
Just a silly one-shot romance/humor fic to brighten your day. Harry and Draco slash, so be warned. Thanks for reading!



"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Harry, Happy Birthday to you!"

The enormous ballroom in Fred and George Weasley's London home was filled with the sounds of cheering and clapping as Harry Potter blew out the eighteen candles on his enormous birthday cake.

"Hurrah for Potter, the best seeker in England and defeater of the Dark Lord!" shouted several of Harry's fans and Quidditch teammates, as well as all the Ministry workers.

"Congratulations, Harry! Happy eighteenth birthday, mate!" shouted several of his friends from Hogwarts.

"Alright, Potter! The big one-eight, and you know what that means, boys! Potter here is now officially legal! Woot!" shouted Severus Snape, who had apparently had one too many Pina Coladas at this crazy party.

Harry positively beamed at everyone over his cake. Harry's defeat of Lord Voldemort, which had occurred, conveniently enough, at the very end of his seventh year at Hogwarts, had left everyone in quite the partying moods lately. And now it was Harry's 18th birthday, and Fred and George (who were rolling in galleons thanks to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes) had insisted on throwing him the biggest, baddest, bestest party that they could plan.

Which brings us to today, and the crazy party that everybody who was anybody, and quite a few somebodies who were nobody had attended. After all, it's not every day that the Savior of the Wizarding World turns eighteen, is it?

Fred and George had gone all out. The party was at their new flat, and the place had been decorated in true Weasley fashion, with flashing banners and flashing lights and flashing refreshments and a couple of flashing house elves in trench coats that Fred and George had included just to piss Hermione off. There were mountains of food and gallons of drink. And in the midst of it all was a very happy Harry Potter.

The guests had all arrived some time ago, which means that everyone had started drinking some time ago, which explains Snape's current state of intoxication. Now, everyone had of course been nice and orderly when they arrived...



"Welcome, Professor," Harry said as nicely as he could to the black haired Potions Master standing in the doorway.

"Potter," sneered Professor Snape, who had spent seven years perfecting his sneer of Harry's name, tweaking it until it was perfect, a sublime mixture of contempt and loathing and revulsion with just the faintest hint of "damn you for having such pretty green eyes."

Harry just sighed. He had spent seven years learning to deal with Snape's sinister sneers, and he wasn't in the least bit bothered now. "Come on in, Professor. The drinks are in the parlor."

"I would hope you had the presence of mind to purchase Ogden's Firewhiskey, because I'll have you know that's all I drink," Snape said disdainfully. Harry raised an eyebrow. It was a well-known fact among the Order of the Phoenix that Snape's drink of choice was actually a Pina Colada, followed closely by a good strawberry Daiquiri.

Harry let Snape keep up his appearances, however, and merely directed him into the enormous parlor before returning to his post at the door. As it was a party in his honor he felt the need to stand at the door and try to greet all of his guests as they arrived. This was proving to be quite the arduous task, as dozens upon dozens of witches and wizards were pouring in, ready to celebrate the birthday of the Boy Who Lived Yet Again and to seriously get down.

"Ah, Minister. I'm so glad you could make it. Yes, I'm very happy to have finally defeated Voldemort, nobody likes having an evil Dark Lord out to get them..."

"Seamus, Dean! So glad you guys are here. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Hagrid, how wonderful to see you! Although I'm not sure that Fluffy should come into the parlor with everyone else. Perhaps you can take him to one of the bedrooms?"

Finally, most of the guests had arrived, and Harry was getting ready to make his escape to the bar when there was another knock on the door. Harry opened to find a pair of tall, statuesque blondes standing in his doorway.

"Hello, Potter," Draco Malfoy drawled in his best "oh look, I'm talking to a wad of gum stuck to the bottom of my shoe" voice. Harry merely glared back.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" he shot back.

"Temper, temper, Harry," Lucius Malfoy drawled in a voice that was eerily like his son's. "We merely came to pay our respects to the birthday boy. Is that a crime?"

"No, but those shoes with that shirt is," Harry returned, feeling rather bitchy.

"Oh, very clever, Potter. Did you make that up all by yourself or did you steal that line from Queer Eye?" Draco parried.

Lucius smirked. "That's right, Harry. Really, where are your manners? Are you going to invite us in or are you going to leave us to freeze to death on your doorstep?"

"It's July," Harry pointed out irritably.

"Figure of speech, my boy," Lucius replied, gazing beyond Harry at the huge crowd of people drinking and dancing behind him.

"Oh fine, then. Come in. But mind you two behave yourselves like decent people for a change. If I see even the slightest hint of an Unforgivable curse I'm throwing you both out, and don't think I won't do it."

"Agreed," said Draco, as he and his father stepped into the foyer with Harry. Harry gave them both a quick once over, his eyes lingering slightly on Draco. Soft, shiny blonde hair. Flawless pale skin. Hard, defined muscles. And all wrapped up in the finest tailored clothes money could buy. What a pity that such a deliciously hot package was home to such a malicious little ferret.

"Well, I suppose since you're technically my guests I should act like a better host," Harry finally said. "Can I get either of you a drink?"

"Mai-Tai," the father and son immediately replied in one voice. Harry scoffed.

"A Mai-Tai? Surely the forces of evil can come up with a manlier drink than that."

"A Mai-Tai is a perfectly manly drink," Draco said indignantly. "I'll have you know that at Death Eater parties there were always plenty of Mai-Tais to go around, which is more than I can say for your bloody Order of the Phoenix. You'd think working your arse off as a spy would entitle you to a few good drinks at the gatherings, but apparently you lot have got a thing for planning tactical maneuvers sober."

"Yes, imagine that," Harry said back dryly.

"Now Draco, don't be rude to your host," Lucius admonished, scanning the crowd excitedly.

"But Daddy -

"Not another word. It's unbecoming to a Malfoy. We are always unfailingly polite. I say, is that Severus Snape?"

"Um...yes," answered Harry, looking at where Lucius was pointing. "He got here some time ago."

"And has he been drinking?" Lucius asked with an unusual gleam in his eye. Harry looked over at Snape, who was holding a frosty drink in his hand and swaying slightly to the music.

"I believe he has," Harry replied, and Lucius grinned evilly.

"Excellent," he said, steepling his fingers and touching the tips together in succession ala Monty Burns. He disappeared off into the crowd, leaving behind a slightly confused Harry Potter and a sulking Draco Malfoy.

"I hate it when he lectures me," Draco grumbled. "Draco, don't be rude, it's unbecoming to a Malfoy. Draco, don't wear pale pink, it washes out your complexion. Draco, don't play dress-up with the house elves, I know they look pretty in ruffles but you're setting them all free. I mean, really. You'd think I don't behave myself or something."

"What?" said Harry, his mind not quite able to get past "dress-up with the house elves."

"Oh, um...nothing," said Draco a bit distractedly. "I think I'll just be getting that Mai-Tai now."

"You do that," replied Harry, rubbing his temples, and they went their separate ways into the crowd.

End Flashback.


So now the party was in full swing. Pieces of cake were being handed out to all the guests, more drinks were being passed around, the music was blaring, people were dancing, and the celebration went on and on.

Harry had been dancing non-stop since blowing out his birthday candles, and figured it was time for a drink. He carefully disengaged himself from Ginny Weasley, who was happily drunk and had her arms locked around Harry's waist and went over to the refreshments table to get a glass of punch.

He was just ladling a glass full of whatever toxic concoction Fred and George were passing off as punch when he heard a voice next to him.

"Happy Birthday, Harry!" Kingsley Shacklebot had come up to the punch bowl next to Harry, who smiled at the Auror.

"Thanks, Kingsley," he said, yelling slightly to be heard over the din of the music. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Oh yes," Kingsley replied enthusiastically, and then leaned over close to Harry to talk to him over the music. "Listen, Harry, I know it's your birthday and all, but I was wondering if I could possibly ask you a favor?"

"Sure, anything. What's up?" Harry replied. Kingsley pulled out the latest copy of Witch Weekly, which featured an enormous article about Harry - a little snippet about his defeat of the Dark Lord, but mostly about his appointment as seeker for the Chudley Cannons and his recent third winning of the "Most Charming Smile" award.

"Well, the thing is," and here Kingsley looked rather uncomfortable, "I know how much you hate signing autographs, but my niece is absolutely crazy about you, she has all these posters of you on her wall and all the action figures and I would really, really appreciate it if -

"It's alright, I'll sign it," Harry said. After all, it was his birthday. Couldn't hurt. Then he paused. "Action figures?"

"Yeah. You haven't seen them? They're fantastic. You walk around waving your wand and shouting little spells, and then you can buy the cutest accessories to go with it."

"Acc...accessories?" Harry was having trouble wrapping his mind around this.

"Oh yes. Like little Chudley Cannon robes, and little Gryffindor Quidditch robes, and a little miniature Firebolt. It's great. So you'll sign the magazine?"

"Um, sure," Harry was a bit disturbed that all over England people were now able to buy miniature versions of him and dress him up in "the cutest little accessories." But he shrugged it off. "So who should I make this out to?" he asked solicitously.

"Make it out to Rosie Shacklebolt, would you? That's Rosie with an i-e, not a y, and -

"Ooooh, look! Potter's signing autographs!"

Harry looked up from his magazine, where he was writing some rubbish about staying in school and following your dreams, to see Draco Malfoy a couple feet away, clutching a coconut and...smiling brightly?

"I want one!"

"I'm sorry...what?" Harry blinked at the happy-looking Draco, confused.

"I want your autograph, Potter. Can I have one?" Draco asked eagerly, sipping from his coconut.

"Ummm...are you sure about that, Malfoy?" Harry couldn't help but wonder exactly how many Mai-Tais Draco had had to drink tonight.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Draco said, giggling. "Please? Pretty please?" And now Draco was giving Harry pleading puppy dog eyes, perhaps not the world's best (Malfoys don't usually do pleading puppy dog eyes, you know. They're more of the "give it here or suffer my wrath" kind of people), but the sight of the pretty blonde Draco Malfoy giving Harry puppy dog eyes made Harry feel kind of...warm and fuzzy inside.

"Well, alright then. Though I suspect you'll burn it first thing in the morning when you're not drunk anymore."

"No, I won't, I swear! I'll keep it forever!"

"Well, great. What do you want me to sign?" Draco looked around for paper or something, and then the idea hit him.



"Sign ME! Here!" And he yanked up his shirt so Harry could sign his stomach.

Harry just stared for a moment, and unconsciously licked his lips. Draco's stomach was...well, it was very flat, very toned, and looked very, very yummy. Apparently working as a Spy for the Order of the Phoenix has the unexpected side effect of landing said spy with a righteous set of abs.

Harry must have been staring longer than he thought because Draco started to get impatient.

"Come on Harry! You said you would!" Draco was whining now. Harry smiled. Well, this would be funny tomorrow morning, at least.

"Okay then, up on the table with you. I can't sign in this position."

"Okay," said Draco agreeably, and Harry decided that Drunk!Draco was far and beyond a vast improvement over the Malfoy he normally dealt with. Draco hopped up on the table, narrowly missing a bowl of flashing candy, and lay back. Harry leaned over him.

"So, uh...who should I make this out to?" Harry asked, and Draco appeared deep in thought.

"How about To Draco Malfoy, aka 'Sex on a Stick,' love Harry."

"Sounds smashing. Now hold still."

What Harry actually wrote was:

To My Favorite Ferret:

A word of advice: Cut down on the Mai-Tais.

Harry J. Potter.

Draco couldn't read it from his angle or his blood alcohol level, so he merely beamed at Harry and then bounded off again into the crowd, presumably to dance.


Harry didn't see Draco again for quite some time. He danced some more, signed a few more autographs, and met and accepted congratulations from dozens of his party guests. He also had a couple Mai Tais himself, along with a glass of champagne, a sip of Firewhiskey and some jello shots, so needless to say by this point our favorite birthday boy was a little tipsy himself.

Harry finally stumbled off the dance floor to take a little breather. Looking back at the dancing crowd, he watched fondly as Fred and George danced with Angelina and Katie Bell, Ron and Hermione engaged in a sultry two person tango, and Remus Lupin chatted up a good-looking bloke who played chaser for the Chudley Cannons. He also noticed with a mixture of amusement and horror that Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape were sitting very closely together on a couch, sipping out of the same coconut with two different straws and sharing meaningful looks.

However, tipsy or no, Harry Potter is still a hero. So when he looked past the dance floor and saw Draco Malfoy pressed up against the wall by Percy Weasley of all people, glaring unhappily at his captor, he came to the rescue.

"Is there a (hic) problem, here?" Harry asked as he approached the odd couple, struggling to adopt his "I defeated Voldemort, you scum sucker, so get ready to respect every damn word I say," voice.

"YES," said Draco, scathingly. "This cretin is laboring under the misapprehension that I might want to kiss him, and I can assure you I find the idea positively repulsive."

Harry vaguely wondered how Malfoy managed to stay so eloquent even when he was so obviously drunk, but nevertheless turned to Percy and launched into his little speech. "Now look here, Percy, if the lady...er, I mean, the gentleman...well, actually, this is Malfoy we're talking about, so...um...if the blonde here doesn't want to kiss you then I suggest you take a long walk off a short pier."

"But Harry," Percy whined through his own extreme alcoholic haze, "I want to kiss Malfoy. He's so pretty."

"Pretty?" said Draco scathingly. "Pretty?? Well, I have never been so insulted. I am the most rugged, masculine, virile -

"Yes, yes, you're very manly," Harry said soothingly to Draco, who was glaring full daggers at Percy. Harry turned to the middle Weasley. "Now Percy, really. We didn't defeat Voldemort so you could play tonsil hockey with one of our best spies. And Malfoy doesn't want to be kissed, and there will be no kissing of people who don't want to be kissed at my party. Got it?"

"Got it," Percy said sheepishly, skulking away. Harry shook his head.

"You alright, Malfoy?" he asked with some concern, as he guided Draco over to a conveniently nearby couch.

"Yes. People can't help it that they want to snog me uncontrollably. Comes with being an irresistibly sexy bitch. Which I am, you know. A rugged, masculine, virile, sexy bitch."

"Right, Malfoy," Harry replied, struggling a bit to walk straight himself. "That's why Percy Weasley was about to have his wicked way with you up against the wall. Your irresistible masculinity."

"He was about to kiss me, wasn't he? And you saved me," Draco said slowly, thinking things over. Then he grinned up at Harry. "Harry Potter, you're my hero."

Harry rolled his eyes a bit, but he sat Draco down on the couch and then, feeling in need of a bit of rest himself, dropped down on the other side of the couch.

Or at least, that's what he meant to do. Depth perception isn't all it's cracked up to be, especially for eighteen year olds under the influence of Mai-Tais. As a result, Harry found that he had plopped down practically on top of Draco. A tingle shot up his leg where it suddenly found itself firmly on top of Draco's leg. A matching tingle was beginning in his shoulder where it was touching Draco's.

Harry opened his mouth to apologize and got ready to scoot over, but out of the blue Draco slung a drunken arm around Harry's shoulder and pulled him in close.

"I'm on to you, Potter," Draco whispered in a conspiratorial sort of fashion.

"What on earth are you talking about, Malfoy?" Harry was quite confused, but he couldn't help but notice that Draco's arm actually felt...well, nice around his shoulder.

Draco took a stealthy (well, stealthy in a drunken sort of way) look around the room before leaning in again to whisper in Harry's ear. "I'm on to you. With all your noble heroics and Dark Lord defeating and what not," Harry could feel the rumbling of Draco's voice in his chest, and the faint sensation of Draco's breath against his hair.

"You're not getting any clearer," Harry felt compelled to point out, although to be honest he wasn't sure if this was because Draco was drunk and not making sense, or because he was having trouble computing anything that didn't have to do with just how hard and defined Draco's arm muscles felt pressed up against his own.

Draco leaned in so he was only inches from Harry's ear.

"I know who you really are," Draco breathed, his tone of voice indicating that he had just revealed that he knew a national secret. Harry fought back a shiver as Draco's breath ghosted over his skin and left prickles on his neck.

"Is that so?" Harry said as casually as he could, trying to hide the fact that his former schoolyard rival had given him goosebumps just from whispering. "So who am I, really?"

Draco shook his head. "Nah-ah. Not without another drink." He removed his arm from Harry shoulder and crossed them, fixing Harry with a pointed stare.

Harry, though disappointed by the loss of the arm, signaled for the house elf to bring the Mai-Tais over. They both grabbed a coconut and took appreciative sips of their drinks.

"Well?" Harry asked, wondering to himself why he hadn't moved farther away from Draco yet. "If I'm not Harry Potter, who am I?"

Draco smirked at him. "You're Batman." Harry spit his drink out in surprise.

"I'm who?"

"Batman," said Draco confidently into Harry's ear. He watched as Harry sputtered a bit, a smug look on his face as it was obvious that he had just revealed that he knew Harry's Really Big Secret.

"Malfoy," Harry finally managed to say, after he was able to breath again. "How the hell do you know who Batman is?"

"Don't change the subject, Potter. I told you I was on to you."

"I'm not changing the subject. The subject is Batman. Again, how the hell do you know who Batman is?"

Draco shrugged. "I took Muggle Studies fifth year."

"You, Mr. "I've Got a Wizarding Pedigree the Size of Big Ben," took Muggle Studies?" Harry asked incredulously.

"So what? I lost a bet with Blaise, okay? And you're just trying to get out of confessing the truth. I know you're Batman, Potter."

"And what makes you so sure?"

"You're always there to save people when they get in trouble. I bet you even have your own Bat signal, except instead of a bat Dumbledore flashes a big lightening bolt up in the sky and you fly up on your broom to figure out what the problem is and then you go save the world again. You know, you should do a better job at hiding things. It's really quite obvious, when you think about it."

Harry was finding this entire conversation incredibly amusing, and rather wishing he did have his own lightning bolt signal to flash up in the sky. He decided to humor Draco, because, well, mostly because Draco was hot. "Okay, maybe I am Batman. Does that make you Robin?"

"Oh, God no," Draco said with a shudder. "I would never wear those horrible green tights. Plus, you and me, we're enemies. Let Weasley be Robin, he's your little sidekick anyway. And Granger can be Batgirl. And the Dark Lord was the Joker. It's perfect."

"That is perfect," agreed Harry, who was in a very agreeable mood thanks to his latest alcoholic acquisition and the fact that he was comfortably cuddled up to Draco.

"That does leave me out though," said Draco, pouting now. "Who I am supposed to be?"

Harry thought for a moment. "I've got it!"

"Yes?" asked Draco eagerly.

"You," said Harry triumphantly, "Are Catwoman."

Draco appeared to think this over. "Catwoman, eh? Well, I do look good in leather."

"Of course you do. And you and I are enemies just like Batman and Catwoman so it all works out." Harry was quite pleased with himself.

He and Draco sat together on the couch, sipping their Mai-Tais in a rather content silence for a few moments, until Draco got a puzzled expression on his face.

"Hey Potter?"


"Aren't Batman and Catwoman lovers as well as enemies?"

"Hmmm..." Harry was thinking that Draco was making a Very Good Point. "You know, I think you may be right."

"Well, if you're Batman, and I'm Catwoman, then maybe we better kiss," Draco suggested rather hopefully.

"Maybe we should," agreed Harry, who had to admit that it sounded like an absolutely smashing idea.

They looked at each other for a moment.

"Right. So I'm going to kiss you then, Potter. Hold still." Harry obligingly held still and closed his eyes, and Draco leaned in and pecked Harry on the lips.

Harry blinked.

"Again, Malfoy." Draco obliged with another short peck, not at all what Harry had in mind.

"You're not doing it right," Harry whined, and Draco looked really confused. "There's supposed to be closed eyes, and lots of tongue and it's supposed to last a lot longer and - oh fuck it, I'll do it," Harry said, and he reached out, placed a hand behind Draco's head, and pulled him in to press their lips together in a passionate kiss.

Even through the alcoholic fog that clouded both of their brains both boys could swear to Merlin that this was the best kiss they had ever had. Ever. Both of Harry's hands had found their way into Draco's soft blonde hair, entwining the silky strands around his fingers. Draco arms had snaked their way around Harry's waist and up his back, sending electric pulses up and down Harry's body. Harry slid his tongue over Draco's bottom lip, and he eagerly opened his mouth to reciprocate as their tongues twirled together and the kissing became more heated.

Harry moved his kisses from Draco's mouth to his face, trailing across his jaw. Draco began to make noises of pleasure at the sensation. These noises drove Harry on, and he continued the kisses up to Draco's ear, and then down his neck, kissing and licking and sucking as Draco's moans and gasps gave way to spoken words.

"Oh yes, oh baby, right there, oh gods, give it to me, oh yes, oh, do it for daddy!"

Harry paused mid-lick. "Do it for daddy?"

"What? It's just an expression."

"I've never heard it before."

"Yes, well, you must just not be very experienced then. It's a perfectly good expression, ask anybody."

Harry was offended. "I hardly think not having had someone tell you to 'do it for daddy' is a way to tell that you're not very experienced."

"Oh trust me Potter, it is." Draco was adamant. Harry felt sulky now.

"Shut up, Malfoy. Besides, if anybody is going to be anybody's daddy around here, it's going to be me."

"What?" Draco narrowed his eyes. "Oh, no way Potter. I'm the big bad Slytherin, I get to be the daddy here."

"I don't think so, Malfoy. I'm the Boy-Who-Lived. I get to be the daddy."

"You're the one sitting on my lap."

"I am not sitting on your lap!" Harry huffed indignantly. "I'm just resting my legs on top of yours. And besides, I'm Batman and you're Catwoman. Obviously, I'm the guy here, and therefore, I'm gonna be the daddy."

"Now you listen here, you virginal little Gryffindor. I'm the daddy, and that final. In fact, I want to hear you say it. Say 'Malfoy, you're my daddy.'"


"Go on then. Let's hear it."

"No way."

"Don't make me hex you, Potter. I've got a wicked arsenal of dark curses and I'm not afraid to use them."

"You don't have a wand," Harry pointed out smugly.

"Damn," said Draco, looking around, before inspiration hit.

"Say it," he said meaningfully, "Or I'll tickle you." Harry gasped.

"You wouldn't."

"I would. So go on. Say it."


"Right then, you asked for it." Draco somehow managed to upend Harry, who was caught very off guard, off his lap and pin him to the couch. Then he sat on Harry's chest, pinned his arms under his knees, and reached behind him to tickle Harry's sides.

Turned out that the Boy-Who-Lived is very, very ticklish.

Harry was thrashed about on the couch, unable to stop laughing as Malfoy ran his fingers up and down Harry's stomach. "For the love of God," Harry gasped through his laughter as Draco mercilessly tickled him, "Stop! Malfoy, stop!"

"Not until you say the words," Draco admonished, increasing the intensity of the attack.

"NO!" Harry struggled but Draco held him down securely and kept right on tickling him. "Malfoy! Please! DRAAACO!" Harry knew he was whining but he was desperate.

"You know what to say, Harry," Draco smirked, looking like he was rather enjoying the sensation of Harry Potter writhing and moaning his name underneath him. Harry bit his lip, but Draco could sense he was giving in. "Come on Potter. Who's your daddy? Who's your daddy?"

"Oh...gods....alright, you monster! Alright! Malfoy, you're my daddy!" Draco stopped tickling him and Harry glared up at the blonde, panting for breath. "Bastard." Draco merely smirked.

"No name calling, or Daddy will have to punish you." Harry glared harder at his captor, who was still sitting on his stomach and showed no signs of moving anytime soon. Quite the contrary, actually. Draco was fixing Harry with a very intent look.

"Green," he said decisively, and Harry looked up at him, confused.

"What?" he said, suddenly very aware of Draco's body on top of his.

"Your eyes," Draco explained simply. "They're green."

"I know," Harry said, wondering what on earth Malfoy was getting at. Draco leaned down even more, placing his hands on either side of Harry's head on the couch, holding himself up. His grey eyes were studying Harry intently, and his mouth was only inches from Harry's, Draco's breath warm against his face. Harry's own breathing hitched.

"I like green," said Draco, and he breached the last bit of distance and brought his mouth down against Harry's. Harry responded enthusiastically, and they snogged together on the couch for several moments, things getting more and more heated before Harry pulled away, panting.


"Mmmm?" said Draco, now planting kisses on Harry's neck.

"Let's...oh, yes, right there...go upstairs," Harry managed to say. "To my bedroom."

"I thought this was Fred and...mmmm, that feels so good, Potter...George's place."

"It is. I'm staying in one of the...ohmygoddothatagain...guest bedrooms."

"Okay...oh gods Potter, don't stop...let's go," Draco panted, and they jumped off the couch and raced upstairs.

At the door to his room Harry couldn't wait any longer. He stopped and pushed Draco up against the wall and resumed kissing Draco as passionately as he could, trapping the blonde firmly in place, nibbling on his lips, threading fingers through his hair and crushing him tightly to his own body.

Draco finally pulled away, and looked at Harry with big, incredulous gray eyes, breathing heavily, chest rising up and down.

"Potter, where the hell did you learn to kiss like that? Are you some kind of animal?"

"No," said Harry mischievously, pulling Draco inside the bedroom. "I'm Batman."

~ Finite! ~


Author notes: Should I write a sequel? I could call it Catwoman...:)

Thanks for reading and reviewing!