The next day after lunch Draco walked back to the changing rooms, where he'd left his broomstick kit the day before. Of course, he had been very distracted, so his forgetfulness was excusable. He had been... surprised, to say the least, when Seamus had come to him, even kissed him; but he had quickly warmed to the whole idea of pushing the Irish boy up against the wall and snogging him. Which he had enjoyed very much.
As he neared the changing rooms, Draco heard some shuffling noises; he paused and listened. There was someone else inside. He opened the door without knocking, and he was met with a... rather interesting sight. Harry was there, using the room for its intended purpose — changing. He was in a rather complete state of undress.
Draco grinned, and he couldn't help remarking, "Nice legs, Potter."
Harry whirled around; he froze when he saw Draco standing there.
"Malfoy?" Harry recovered from his shock and snatched up the first thing he could get his hands on, which happened to be his clean robes, and swathed them around his waist to salvage his decency. "What are you doing in here?"
Draco noticed Harry's face was flushed; he paused and smirked, enjoying Harry's discomfort immensely. He also couldn't help noticing the way the robes were bunched up around Harry's hips. Apart from covering the obvious, Harry apparently couldn't quite decide if he wanted to shield more of his thighs or his torso, and ended up providing Draco with a very good view of his legs, which did look rather nice, especially as they now stood slightly apart.
"Get out, Malfoy." Harry's voice was faint, and he sounded more breathless than enraged. He had backed several steps away from Draco and was pressed back against the lockers behind him — which, incidentally, were the same lockers Draco had slammed Seamus up against only the day before.
Draco tilted his head, an amused smile curling on his mouth; it was a rare occurrence to see Harry looking so flustered, and he decided to play it for what it was worth.
Harry evidently construed Draco's smile as one of scorn; his voice strengthened as he said, "Get the hell out of here, Malfoy, now."
Draco didn't move; something in the vague emotion in Harry's eyes made him halt, take a closer look. He moved forward, levelling Harry's gaze.
"You want me to leave, Potter?" His voice asked another question altogether. "Do you really?"
If Draco looked intently enough, he could see the uncertainly in Harry's eyes before he blinked and swallowed hard.
"Yes." The word was more choked out than spoken. Harry seemed to be drawing tremendous effort just to say it, but once he did he seemed to be slightly surer of himself. "Yes, Malfoy. I want you to go."
Draco hadn't expected that degree of firmness; somehow it didn't quite fit the torn expression still plain on Harry's face, even now. But Draco's pride made him step back.
"Fine," Draco's lips curled as he moved toward the door, but all the while his gaze was fixed on Harry. "Have it your way, Potter."
He saw a real flicker of emotion in Harry's eyes; the other boy opened his mouth, but no words emerged. Draco didn't wait; he picked up his broom kit, lying on the bench, and then turned and walked out. And as the door closed between them Draco was pretty sure both of them knew who had won this round.
He grinned as he walked down the corridor leading away from the changing rooms. He must be getting quite prolific — he'd managed to get two Gryffindors all hot and bothered within the span of as many days. But Harry had left Draco with something to think about, too. In his mind Draco replayed the image of Harry standing there naked, and he felt a stir of arousal run through it. As much as he hated to admit it, he — he wanted Potter. Wanted him for a long time now.
But Harry Potter was impossible to get — not so much because Draco wasn't inclined to do so, but he wasn't willing to take the risk of getting rejected to his face. He wasn't going to put himself up to that kind of humiliation. Draco prided himself as a practical, resourceful person, the way Slytherins were — and in all practicality it was much smarter to work with whatever he could get his hands on.
Seamus Finnigan, for one.
Seamus was hot and sexy and willing, the last of which being the essential one-third of what Harry was not. Granted, Seamus didn't have that wide-eyed innocence about him, but he had everything else Draco could possibly want. Seamus knew exactly what to do, how to lick and bite and nibble and touch, how to arch and tease and drive Draco crazy.
Yes, Seamus Finnegan and Harry Potter were completely different.
* * *
Harry finished getting dressed and spent fifteen minutes sitting on the bench staring off into space, replaying what just happened over and over again in his mind.
Did Draco Malfoy just walk in while he was — naked? And did Malfoy stand there calming appraising him, taking in every detail of his body? And when Harry ordered him to leave, did he smile knowingly and say "Have it your way, Potter"?
Yes and yes and yes.
Oh my god, Harry thought, and buried his face in his hands.
When he finally made his way out of the changing room onto the pitch, he saw Ron sitting in the first row of the stands. Ron waved at him and Harry sauntered over.
"Hey," Ron greeted him with a warm smile. "I just thought I'd come down here and watch you guys practice for a bit."
Harry nodded absently, barely hearing what Ron had said; he glanced around, and then leaned closer and said in a low voice, "You wouldn't believe what happened in the changing room just now."
Ron raised his eyebrow. "What, you realised you outgrew your latest set of Quidditch robes again?" Harry had been experiencing a growth spurt of late, though he was still a few inches shorter than Ron.
Harry shook his head, his expression still serious. "No. Malfoy walked in on me while I was changing."
Ron's smile immediately vanished. "Malfoy what?"
Harry blushed slightly. "He came in when I was in the middle of changing into my Quidditch robes —" he lowered his voice almost shyly, "and I wasn't really, er, wearing anything."
What the hell? Ron felt the blood rush to his brain. First, Malfoy got to be the one Harry liked; and now, Malfoy got to stare at Harry naked? And Ron was pretty damn sure that's what Malfoy did; it wasn't as if he would chastely cover his eyes and wait for Harry to get some clothes on before looking again.
"What did he want?" Ron snapped, feeling as if he wanted to tie Malfoy upside-down to the nearest tree and beat him senseless.
Harry turned a little red, and then shrugged. "I don't know what he really wanted, thought it seemed — I'm not sure if I'm reading too much into it, but it felt like he was coming on to me."
Ron felt as if he was going to explode, and now he dearly wanted to make pudding out of Malfoy's brain. Malfoy actually had the nerve to —
"Wait a minute," Ron frowned at Harry. "Then what happened? You did tell Malfoy to get the hell out of your sight, didn't you? Didn't you?"
"Huh?" Harry looked rather distracted again. "Oh, yes, yes of course I did." He sighed and shook his head. "Though to tell the truth, a part of me didn't want to. But — I couldn't risk it, the team would've been down any minute and..."
Ron closed his eyes and tried not to listen to Harry talk about the part of him that wanted to — wanted to hang around being naked with Malfoy alone in the changing room. He clenched his teeth and willed himself not to show any emotion.
Harry lingered for another few minutes until the rest of his team appeared on the pitch, and then left Ron behind to start the practice session. Ron stayed for a while, watching and admiring the way Harry flew with effortless grace; but lurking at the back of his mind was what Harry had just told him about his encounter with Malfoy. I can't just let him go like that, Ron thought fiercely to himself, fervently cursing the Malfoy name for countless generations. Hands off, Malfoy.
But he needn't have worried, really; at least for the moment, Malfoy's hands were more than sufficiently occupied.
* * *
So this was what it felt like.
Seamus wondered what other Hogwarts students who had a crush on Draco Malfoy would say if they knew what Draco was doing to him now.
He and Draco were alone in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory, in Seamus's bed. It was a daring move, bringing Draco back here, but Seamus figured it was safe enough: Dean had sneaked off somewhere with Parvati, Neville was cleaning up the Potions classroom as one of Snape's punishments, and Ron had gone down to the Quidditch pitch to watch Harry practice. He and Draco should have a good part of the afternoon to themselves. And what a good part that promised to be.
They wasted no time getting down to business: Draco was lying on top of him, pinning Seamus to the bed with the weight of his body as they kissed hard. Seamus sensed Draco was in a more aggressive mood than he had been in the changing room yesterday — he willingly submitted, letting Draco do whatever he wanted. A pleasurable shiver ran through him as he felt Draco's mouth sucking hard on his neck, promising a telltale pattern of marks afterward. Thankfully, most of his robes had high collars.
"Draco," Seamus gasped, unable to do anything more than writhe as Draco began to grind against him, his hips bearing down on Seamus's, creating delicious friction. Draco laughed quietly, his lips next to Seamus's ear, and he tilted his body slightly to achieve a better angle as he continued to rub against Seamus.
"You know," Draco whispered, nibbling on Seamus's earlobe, "I love the way you say my name when I'm pressing into you like this." Draco demonstrated his point by thrusting his lower body downward in a slow half-twist; Seamus threw his head back on the pillow and moaned.
"Draco, oh, that's good, yeah, that's —" Seamus's words were cut off as Draco's mouth covered his, kissing him hungrily.
Draco finally paused and drew back slightly. "Tell me again why you're so fascinated with me all of a sudden," he said, gazing down at Seamus with a smirk. "Besides the fact that I'm irresistible, of course."
Seamus laughed and slid his arms around Draco's neck, pulling him closer. "Because I like you," he answered simply, gazing up at Draco. "Good enough?"
Draco grinned and said nothing, although he leaned down and commenced doing something very artful with his tongue on Seamus's chest, which made Seamus arch upwards against Draco's body with a debauched groan.
They were suddenly jolted back to reality by the distant sound of the portrait hole slamming shut, followed by footsteps which gradually got louder and louder, echoing in the spiral stairwell leading up to the boys' dormitory.
"Fuck, there's someone coming!" Seamus pushed Draco off him and sat up, feeling dizzy from the, well, strenuous activity he had been engaged in until now. "Quick, get under the bed!"
Seamus threw Draco's shirt at him, and Draco looked chagrined as he quickly got dressed and crouched to the floor. Seamus hurriedly put his shirt back on just as the dormitory door opened and Ron walked in, looking disgruntled.
Seamus's heart was pounding; and Ron's stormy expression didn't bode well at all, especially not when he had Draco Malfoy half-hidden under his bed. He offered Ron his best innocent and cheerful smile and wished that Ron would hurry up and quickly go away.
Ron saw Seamus sitting on the bed. "Seamus! I need to talk to you —"
"Er, Ron..." Seamus quickly cut in, "this isn't really a good time —"
Ron ignored him and continued speaking very fast, "Everything's going wrong! The plan for you to seduce Malfoy isn't working out — Harry just told me that Malfoy —"
"Shut up, Ron!" Seamus hissed, utterly horrified; but it was too late.
Ron caught Seamus's wild expression and paused, bewildered. "What? What did I say?"
Seamus opened his mouth but no words emerged; Ron looked as if he was about to ask Seamus again what the hell was going on when his eyes suddenly widened in disbelief.
Draco Malfoy slowly stood up from where he had been hiding; he still carried his usual air of arrogance even though his clothes were in a state of disarray.
On the bed Seamus closed his eyes, hoping this was just a bad dream; but when he opened them again Draco was still standing there and Ron was still gaping, too shocked at seeing Draco Malfoy materialise out of nowhere in the middle of the Gryffindor bedroom.
Finally Draco moved; without a word, without even the briefest glance in Seamus's direction, he snatched up his robes from where they lay and headed out of the dormitory, kicking the door shut behind him.
Ron stared after the closed door in disbelief.
"What — what the hell is he doing in here?" he finally demanded.
Seamus just sat there, too stunned to move; then he recovered and sprang to his feet. He left Ron standing there gawking at him and hurtled down the stairs after Draco. He quickly crawled through the portrait hole and ran down the corridor as fast as he could.
Seamus finally caught up with Draco halfway down the corridor on the second-floor. "Draco! Draco, wait!"
Draco, who was walking away with quick, decisive steps, didn't turn around.
"Draco!" Seamus panted, as he drew level with the other boy, "Draco, please, listen to me —"
He reached out to catch Draco by the arm — but Draco abruptly spun around and slapped his hand away.
"Don't touch me, Finnigan," Draco snarled.
Seamus stared at Draco for a moment, and then said plaintively, "Draco, I can explain, please, just let me explain."
Draco's eyes burned with fury. "I don't need to hear you explain. Weasley's already done that perfectly well just now."
"No!" Seamus cried out; he hurried to keep pace with Draco, who had started walking away again. "No, Draco, that was a misunderstanding, Ron didn't mean —"
Draco suddenly whirled around to face Seamus, who had to skid to an abrupt halt to keep from colliding into him — something that he wouldn't have minded doing on any other occasion, except that now really wasn't the right time.
"Oh, really?" Draco's voice was sharp enough to cut glass — without warning, he seized Seamus and shoved him up against the corridor wall. Seamus winced as the back of his head struck the solid concrete. Draco allowed a humourless smile as he saw Seamus flinch. "So I didn't get the right idea, you say? You're saying this whole thing wasn't a plan for you to get me into bed, just so Weasley can get it on with Potter without having to worry I might fancy the pants off his new boyfriend?"
Seamus's jaw dropped; he was speechless, which was enough of an admission of guilt. Draco's mouth twisted grimly; when he looked at Seamus, his eyes were filled with such intense disgust and loathing that Seamus cringed inwardly, and he wanted to just wither and die right there.
"Draco," Seamus tried desperately; he was painfully aware of Draco's fingers digging into his shoulder, the same fingers that had touched him so intimately just moments before... Seamus bit down on his lower lip, and he had never felt so terrible, so helpless.
Draco released Seamus and stepped back, his cold grey eyes alight with thinly controlled anger. Seamus was breathing hard, his palms flattened out against the wall behind him. He looked at Draco.
"I'm so sorry," he said in a small, hopeless voice.
Draco turned and walked away without another word.
Against better judgement Seamus ran after him; he didn't know why, only that he knew he couldn't just leave it like this —
"Draco, I wasn't just doing it for Ron..." Seamus started, but Draco spun around and Seamus wilted under the sheer hatred in his gaze.
"You're a liar and whore, Finnigan," Draco spoke in a deadly low voice, every word filled with suppressed anger, making Seamus's blood run cold. "I want you to stay the hell away from me, and I don't ever want to see you again."
Draco spun on his heel and strode off without even a backward glance; this time, Seamus closed his eyes, slumped back against the wall, and let him go.