It's Saturday Night

AN: One shot prompt from a FB group. Enjoy.


"It ain't my fault you keep turning me on, it it my fault you got me so gone

it ain't my fault I'm not leaving alone, it ain't my fault you keep turning me on

...please don't blame me for whatever happens next

No I can't be responsible if I get you in trouble now, see you're too irresistible..."

-It Ain't My Fault

After the war, Hogwarts was rebuilt and at the headmistresses' insistence, the children whose studies for seventh year were interrupted by were invited back. Rather than plop them all in with the seventh years it was decided to create an eighth year.

The students participating in the eighth year program would be free to attend classes with the seventh years or to do self-studies and apprenticeships as their time and abilities allow.

Not everyone who was applicable returned for eighth year. Some were deceased. Being dead got you uninvited to an awful lot of things. Others were residing in Azkaban which, alas, didn't currently have a field trip policy in place. Then there were the ones who simply couldn't bear to return. Guilt, shame and nightmares preventing them from being able to focus on studies to their fullest.

None of these applied to Draco Malfoy. He rarely felt guilt and he had no shame.

Besides, if the golden boy went through all of that trouble to defend him at the trials and keep him out of Azkaban and wand from being snapped, the least Draco could do was return to Hogwarts and get an education. The fact his decision to accept the invitation only came after he'd heard that Potter would be attending had nothing to do with anything. At all.


When they got to Hogwarts they were pulled aside informed of new changes put into place. A study room just for the eighth years, curfew eliminated for as long as they could prove themselves worthy of such a freedom. The ability to go down to Hogsmead whenever they wanted as long as classes were finished for the day and they returned by nightfall. Pansy suspected the headmistress thought giving them these freedoms and only each other to share them with would encourage inter-house unity.

Nott figured if none of them killed each other that was about as much unity as anyone could rightfully expect.

Unfortunately, no one thought to inform the rest of the school about the virtues of inter-house unity. There were fights in the hall at least once a day. Whatever side of the war you'd been on there was the likelihood someone walking around you, or their family, had a hand in the death or incarceration of you friends or loved ones. Turns out, that was a hard thing to put aside in favour of education.

During the middle of this Potter decided once again to make a spectacle of himself. He started sitting with Draco in any classes they happened to share.

He didn't say a word beyond a greeting. Ignored him and the other Slytherins were flummoxed. What was Potter playing at?

After the first week, it became less of a novelty and they all sort of accepted that Potter finally lost his mind and there was nothing for them to do but let it happen. The thing was, Draco was having an awfully hard time not watching the wizard. He found himself hyper-aware of Potter's location at all times, especially when they were seated next to one another. The looks on Weasley and Granger's faces made it all the more intriguing.

Was this some ill-thought-out attempt at a show of unity?

In the end, it did help a little. In that other students tended not to start anything when Potter was around. Having eviscerated the Dark Lord gets you a fabulous amount of fear and respect from your fellow wizards. Draco hadn't killed a Dark Lord, but he was a Death Eater and the brand o his arm was on display for all to see whenever he rolled up his sleeves. It had a similar effect.

Then Halloween rolled around and Draco found himself sneaking through the halls of Hogwarts once more.

"Are you certain this is the way to go?"

Draco huffed. "Yes, Pansy. Nearly died there. I remember the way."

Blaise peeked around the corner and motioned them all forward. He, blessedly, didn't second guess Draco's directions. Nott didn't either but as he was trailing behind them attempting to read a book while sneaking, Draco thought it was more out of disinterest than any trust in Draco's navigation capabilities.

"I think Nott may be less enthusiastic about this than I am." Draco murmured.

Pansy, who was compulsively straightening her skirt and fixing her hair, scoffed. "Don't pretend you're not ecstatic to go, Draco."

He rolled his eyes, brought out his MirrorPhone and shook it in her face. "I'm only here for blackmail and all photos or video is fair game. With a bunch of intoxicated Gryffindors, I'm about to get something good."

"I still can't believe you got one of these," said Pansy, snatching it from his hands and looking down her nose at the device.

Draco snatched it back. "You're just jealous I even have one."

During the year Hogwarts was being rebuilt Potter turned into something of an inventor, getting in league with the remaining Weasley Twin and putting all sorts of things out into the wizarding market. The most explosive was the MirrorPhone. A small square hand mirror that allowed you to contact anyone else who had one, so long as they accepted your 'call'. It was rather like a magic mirror from fairy-stories and Draco liked the idea, even if he would never admit it.

"You only have it because your boyfriend gave you one." Came Nott's reply.

"Still not my boyfriend," said Draco. Sick of this conversation.

They turned onto the seventh floor left-hand corridor. Nearly there. Blaise slowed his pace to give Draco a knowing glance. "Your Gryffindor stalker then?" He suggested.

"It is odd, isn't it?" Draco asked. "Like sixth year all over again."

"He's stalked you before?" Pansy exclaimed, a wide smile pulling across her lips. She was the only one of them who took the costume theme seriously. The three wizards having worn nice clothes and put on masks. Pansy, however, was dressed as some amazonian warrior, complete with a plastic sword which she took out and held at Draco's face threateningly.

Draco pushed the sword aside. "Only because he was suspicious, don't get any ideas."

They reached the right bit of wall and Draco quickly paced back and forth three times. A door appeared. Pansy skipped up and knocked on it excitedly.

"I can't believe I'm going to a Gryffindor party," Blaise said.

He stood beside Draco looking at the door with a small piece of disbelief still floating around inside him. A lot had changed since the war. Not really for better or worse as far as any of them could tell...things were just different. And the eight years, regardless how they may dislike one another on a personal level, still had an odd sense of camaraderie between themselves, having seen and done things the younger years would, hopefully, never be able to understand. That camaraderie is what lead to this party being thrown.

Or so was the rumour.

Nott shut his book and stowed it into the bag around his shoulder. He shrugged "At least every one of age was invited. Should be plenty of non-lions about to socialize with."

"Or corners to read in," Draco said.

The door swung open. Weasley in all his freckly glory stood there. "Oh, the snakes are here." He called to someone over his shoulder. Blue eyes surveyed them all before landing on Draco. "Come in I guess. Try not to curse anyone."

"Even if they spill cheap alcohol on my new shoes?" Draco asked?

Weasley snorted. "Even then." Then he stood aside and motioned them all inside.

Pansy happily flitted through the door, followed by Blaise and Nott.

The room was created to look like a large ballroom and common room combo, with two sets of stair leading to faux dorms. To the right were a fireplace and some tables. To the left was some couches, some drinks and snacks laid out one long table, and between both sides was an open area used for, presumably, dancing later on and general mingling.

Nott left to secure a corner someone to hid in almost the moment he came through the door. No surprise there.

He could see all of the eighth years and most of the seventh years swarming the place. Looks like he and his friends were the last to arrive. That, of course, was when he accidentally caught Potter's gaze from across the room. Maybe, since it seemed the Gryffindor had been staring at him again. Starting that direction Draco wished fervently that Potter would cease and desist because the unexplained attention was doing weird things to his stomach.

As he arrived Draco saw Potter standing with a few other students, Weasley, of course, was there because he couldn't go two minutes without standing around Potter like a tall ginger bodyguard. There was also Terry Boot, Seamus Finnegan, and the she-weasel.

"Have you heard?" Potter asked him.

Draco blinked. "What now? I still didn't screw anyone to get out of Azkaban if that rumour is still floating around."

Potter immediately flushed and stammered, which Draco knew he would. "oh, ah, n-no. I think I would know."

"What then?"

"Apparently" Potter paused dramatically," we're friends now."

Seamus nodded solemnly.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Are we really? How on earth did that happen?"

Weasley scowled in their general direction. "That's what I'd like to know. Who becomes friends with the jerk who insults him all of the time?"

Draco zeroed in on the blatant jealous rolling off of the redhead in waves. He put his arm on the wall behind Potter and leaned back, placing his side against the other wizard. He was very aware of the way Potter stiffened and his face flushed even more at the action.

"You see, Weasel, everyone knows your real friends never bother being offended when you insult them. They simply smile and call you something even more offensive." Draco squeezed Harry's shoulder. "Isn't that right?"

Said Gryffindor looked like he was trying to spontaneously combust. It was bloody adorable. If Potter wasn't straight, and what a travesty that was, Draco would probably make a go at him, honestly.

Miraculously, Potter managed to lift his head and say, "If that's the case we've surpassed friendship and fully immersed ourselves in kindred spirit territory."

Draco grinned. "See, Weasley?"

Weasley's gaze darkened. "I can't stand either of you. I'm going to get a drink."

He turned on his heel and left, the she-weasel followed right after him, pausing only to shoot Draco a venomous look he wasn't certain he'd earned. At least he hadn't anything to her lately that he could remember.

"We'll be playing prism in a little while." Said Seamus, who was eyeing the two of them with interest. "If you're up to play."

Draco tilted his head and considered this. "I suppose I can play."

"Great," said Seamus. He rubbed his neck. "I don't suppose-"

"I could convince Nott to play seeing as you've been making eyes at him since fourth year? Yes, I can do that."

Seamus, rather than look shocked at being caught out, grinned widely. "Good man!"

The Irish boy and the Ravenclaw left soon after, to set up the game no doubt.

"Now if I can just get through the night without getting myself cursed, I think I'll call it a win," said Draco.

Potter looked up at him incredulous. "That would require keeping your mouth shut, Draco. No offence, but I think you not antagonizing somebody is less likely than finding a needle in a haystack."

"Wouldn't you just need a magnet?" Draco asked.

Potter blinked. "Yes, I suppose."

"What?" Draco asked defensively when the staring continued.

"I'm just surprised you didn't suggest a summoning charm."

Draco frowned. "Offense taken. What idiot summons a needle to fly at their face?"

"You're sort of taking the fun out of it," said Potter.

"Ah, yes." Draco stood back and gave a mocking bow in apology. "Says the wizard who would smack the haystack with a stick until it elected to assume sentience and surrendered the needle."

"So, never then," said Potter, dryly. "I'd get the needle never."

Draco smirked. "It's your own fault. Never should have lost the needle in the first place."

"There is no needle!" said Potter.

"That why are we looking for it?" Draco pondered.

Potter crossed his arms and huffed. "It's a muggle reference!"

"C'mon gents," called Seamus. He had a spot on the rug cleared out and at least fifteen students were sitting in a circle. "Game's set up."

Harry stomped off to join the circle leaving a grinning Draco to find Nott. The missing Slytherin was seated at a table near the fireplace and let out a startled squawk when Draco grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the circle. Draco sat down and pulled him down with him. All the while Nott stared at him with wide eyes.

Draco shrugged. "Your presence was requested."

"Right, listen up." Seamus stood in the middle of the circle with a drink in his hand, twisting his body to make certain he had all of the player's attention. "Each of us will have a shot glass in front of us. When it's your turn the glass will fill with a coloured drink. You'll take your shot and complete the assigned task, according to the colour. Then you can pick any person in the circle and ask them one question. Any question you like. That person then has a choice to make They can answer the question or refuse. If they refuse, they have to take a shot. When they're finished it's their turn. If you take too long to complete your task the potion takes matters into its own hands, so tread lightly. Everybody got it?"

With varying sounds of assent, Seamus set out glasses in front of everyone then took a seat and one for himself.

"Why is it called prism?" asked Harry.

Seamus waved the glass. "Because the drinks come in rainbow colours."


Nott turned to Draco. "Why are we playing this?"

"Because it's a momentary relief from the existential terrors of existence."

Nott snorted. "You just want to see everyone embarrass themselves."

"That too."

"I'll go first," Pansy offered. She picked up her drink before anyone could say otherwise. It turned green. Pansy down it and set it on the carpet. "Right, whats green?"

Blase sighed. "Pansy you should ask before you take a drink."

A pamphlet with directions was unfolded. "It's greed." Called out a seventh year Ravenclaw. Draco didn't know her name.

Pansy thought for a moment then stood from her place and stalked across the floor to where a collection of students surrounded the food tables. Looked back and waggling her fingers at them, Pansy proceed to wrap her arms around one of the wizards, seemingly at random. She hugged him and kissed his cheek before leaving him there flabergasted. She brought her hand up so only the could see and showed off a small coin bag.

"Oh look," said Draco, "Larceny."

Pansy stuck at her tongue and sat down. "My turn to ask a question then? Right. I'll ask...the group at large. Which one of you hit Draco back in third year? He had the worst bruise for days but wouldn't tell any of us how it happened."

Across the circle, Granger raised a hand. "This is the hand that smacked Draco Malfoy."

A couple of students oohed.

"I'm surprised you haven't had it gold plated yet. You know, to commemorate the occasion," said Pansy.

Draco scowled.

Granger held out her hand magnanimously. "You can touch it. Since we're friends now."

"Thank you," said Pansy, graciously.

"You're both idiots." Draco crossed his arms.

And so it went. Some of them had to do something simple, like a start an argument or embarrass themselves. More and more people were getting creative with their questions too. Finally, it was the Weasels turn and something in his eyes as he took his shot told Draco it was going to involve him. Because of course, it would.

The drink was yellow. Weasley stood up and yelled, "Oi, Goldstein. I hope you're having a lovely time!"

Taken aback, Anthony Goldstein, who was standing near the fire, gave Weasley an awkward wave. "Thanks?"

Weasley sat back down. "Malfoy."

The circle got quiet, everyone looking between them.

"Malfoy," Weasley repeated. "What's your natural colour?"

Draco stared. "Are you daft and blind Weasley? You're looking at it."

The Gryffindor was shaking his head. "No one naturally has white hair Your daddy's hair isn't even that light. And I know for a fact your mum's hair is dyed. All the Black family has black hair-"

"Don't talk about my mum weasel."

"and according to Hermione muggle genetics says your hair should be black. So fess up your colour, ferret."

"This is my-"

"Prove it." Weasley interrupted again. He looked right smug, too.

Draco felt a wicked grin spiralling across his face. "Fine." He stood, dragged Weasley to his feet and into the nearest room. They came out a few minutes later, Weasley looking absolutely traumatized. Draco settled back into his spot feeling accomplished.

"But how did you...?" Granger started.

Weasley slowly took off his tie and held it out to Granger. "Do me a favour and just shove this down my throat until I asphyxiate to death."

Potter started choking on his spit, staring at Draco in shock. "You didn't."

Draco only shrugged. Let them all wonder. "My turn. Nott."

The boy next to him stiffened up in alarm. "Yes?"

"Why didn't you have a date in fourth year, when you were asked by three witches?"

Nott's face went pale.

"If you don't answer you have to drink." Draco taunted.

Glaring daggers, Nott reached out for his glass, which turned pink, and downed it. "So, pink?"

"Lust." said a Hufflepuff, looking at the directions. She sounded scandalized.

"Lust?" Nott echoed, his voice coming out higher than he probably intended.

Seamus took pity on him. He moved beside the Slytherin and started pointing out the directions. "There's a couple of things you could do to fulfill this colour..." He trailed off in the middle of reciting said things when he noticed Nott staring at him vacantly.

Five minutes later the entire circle watch as Nott, sprawled in Seamus' lap, and Seamus attacked one another's mouth like starving men.

"Does that mean I get to go again?" Draco asked, after a minute.

"Why not?" said Granger. She looked a little shellshocked.

"Fine." He looked directly across the circle. "Potter. What was your boggart in third year? None of us got to see."

Potter shrugged. "Dementor."

His glass turned red. "That's ominous," muttered Potter. He downed the drink.

"That's intimacy," said Terry Boot, as Seamus was still enjoying the last round. "Baring oneself. Usually skin or a secret."

Potter pulled off his jumper and then the shirt underneath. There was a wolf whistle which made his flush. "Done. My turn."

A few turns later a shamefaced Nott, no longer under the influence of the potion, returned to his spot beside Draco.

"Not sitting with your boyfriend?"

"Bugger off."

Pansy went next, then the She weasel. Granger had a turn after that. Then it was Potter's again. His drink was Orange. This resulted in Harry Potter darting across the room, jumping onto a table and dancing. Which wasn't a bad thing really. Only, it sort of was. He was shirtless and just intoxicated enough to dance without inhibition. Swaying around with firelight reflecting on him. Draco tried to tell himself he was recording the entire thing through his Mirrorphone for blackmail purposes and not...other purposes.

Nott snapped his fingers in front of Draco's face. "If you don't stop gazing at Potter adoringly I'm going to nick Pansy's sword and kill you with it."

"It's plastic," Draco muttered, not taking his eyes away from the far table.

"So it'll take some time. I'm patient."

Draco dragged his eyes away to glare. "Go suck an Irishman, Nott."

"S-shut up, Draco. I was under the influence-"

"Of lust. Yes, I saw."

Nott made an outraged noise in the back of his throat.

Potter came back to the circle by then and sat in his spot. "Right so I'll ask..."

"Malfoy." Nott immediately suggested, spitefully.

"Okay...Malfoy. Why did you decide to come back?"

Draco cleared his throat. "Not telling you that." He reached out for his glass only for it to turn red. He swore. "I'm not taking my shirt off either."

"Don't be a prude Malfoy," Weasley called.

Draco fixed his eyes on the redhead. "You know exactly how much of a prude I'm not."

Weasley shut up.

"You have to do one or the other, Draco," said Pansy. She seemed nervous.

"Wait," said Potter. He was studying Draco. "If he just does it for me, does that still count?"

Why the others argued over whether that would count Draco trying to come to grips with the fact Potter had given him an out so he wouldn't have to do something he was uncomfortable with with an audience. Unfortunately, Potter himself was the reason for Draco's discomfort. Not that he could say as much. Which is what lead to Draco following Potter into one of the little dorm room lookalikes. They were small, just to beds with a fake door n the other side that would have lead to a loo if it were a real dorm.

Apparently, the magic of the room decided that many bathrooms were unnecessary.

Draco thought quickly before deciding whether to answer the question or do the drinking requirement. He pulled off his jumper and unbuttoned his shirt. The moment Potter realized why he refused to do so in front of the others was satisfactory. The Gryffindor stilled, looking at him without saying a word. Then, slowly he approached, eyes roving over him.

"Did I do that?" he asked.

Draco couldn't tell what the odd note to his voice was or what it meant.


"I thought Snape healed you?" Potter reached out brushed his fingers over one of Draco's many silvery scars.

"Curse scars," said Draco as an explanation, voice tight.

Potter only nodded, not seeming to notice Draco's strangled voice or his increased breathing in close proximity to the other boy. Potter looked up at him then.

"I'm sorry." he murmured.

Draco isn't sure why his brain decided to turn off in that moment, but he found himself pacing his hands on either side of Potter's face and pressing his lips to his. Almost as soon as it happened Draco dropped his hands and stepped back, startled at his own audacity. He had teased the other boy before. Skated along the lines of flirtation, and never received any socialization in return that would suggest he'd welcome Draco shoving his tongue down his throat.

So much for not getting cursed.

Potter's mouth was wide open in shock. "You.."

"Nope," said Draco, straightening, intending to play it off.

"You. You snogged me!"

"I did not," said Draco. He started looking around for his shirt. There, in a pile with Potters on the floor.

"You did." Draco's head whipped around to look forward. Potter was standing close to him once again. " grabbed my cheeks..."

Potter proceed to reach up and place his hands on either side of Draco's face. Draco, for his part, promptly forgot how to breathe.

"Potter," he warned.

"And...and then..." said Potter.

Draco's lips were against his, arms around him, and he couldn't have told a court at the wizengamot which one of them did it that time. He pulled Potter flush against him, one hand against the back of his neck and the other around his waist. Somehow, someway, they made it to the wall without either of them noticing. Potter was pressed against the stone, Draco's arm enclosing him in and keeping him in place. If it weren't for the, at first tentative, response he received in return Draco would have stopped again. However, the second his brain comprehended that he was being kissed back he lost utter leave of his senses.

Eventually, he pulled back. Potter's lips were swollen and red, eyes glazed. He looked thoroughly debauched.

"That." he rasped. "You did that...with, with the tongue..."

Draco snorted. "Your vocabulary could use some work Potter-"

Potter put his hand over Draco's mouth. "Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. I think I'm having an epiphany."

"What kind of epiphany?" Draco mumbled through the hand.

"Shh. Hang on."

Green eyes went a bit unfocused as the Gryffindor focused on something. then his attention was on Draco again. He removed his hand then leaned forward and kissed Draco experimentally pulling back after a moment.

Draco smirked. "If that's all you could have just asked."

When Potter kept staring at him vacantly Draco rolled his eyes and put his hand under the other boy's chin. He stepped closer and put his mouth near his ear. "If you're finished teetering on the edge of a sexual identity crises, we should probably get back to the game." He stepped away.

"We can talk about it later. Tomorrow maybe. Lunch?"

"Lunch," Potter repeated, wide-eyed.

"Excellent." Draco swiped the first shirt he saw and pulled it on, buttoned it up and slid on a jumper. He was out the door first. As he walked toward the circle game he noticed a lot of people staring at him.

"What? Something on my face?"

"Draco, why did you" Pansy trailed off

Blaise pointed at Draco's chest. He looked down and realized he was wearing a Gryffindor jumper just as Potter came out of the dorm and stood beside him. Draco looked up at the faces watching them and then at Potter who still didn't know why he was being stared at.

"Why are you wearing each other's sweaters?" Weasley burst out.

Blaise held his hand out palm up to Seamus. The Irishman smiled good-naturedly and tossed him what sounded like around ten galleons.

Granger frowned. "I thought it would take until at least December."

"Pay up, Hermione," Seamus called. She sighed and handed Blaise another ten.


PseudonymousEntity 2020

AN: The end?