As a Rock

Summary: In an alternate HP universe where Voldemort is almost no threat at all, Draco Malfoy and his friends contemplate the advantages and disadvantages of having Harry Potter as his boyfriend. HP&DM. BZ&SF. RW&PP.

A/N: I hope everyone who reads this will like this story! -blaquejaxx

*

The Slytherin common room was uncharacteristically quiet that Friday night. This was mostly due to the fact that classes had just begun and the work was about as lax as any extracurricular activities. A few students had even gone straight to bed, though the clock had yet to strike midnight. Other students lazed around their common room, mostly in small groups of upperclassmen with the occasional first or second year sitting in on the conversations. A small group of seventh years all sat around the large fireplace set up as a bonfire in the center of the room and lounged back on ivory couches with emerald green silk cushions. One of these students was Draco Malfoy and though he would be anywhere but there at that moment, he really cherished the time to skip out on his prefect duties for the first time in the entire week.

So, instead, he watched his friends; the bullish Vincent Crabbe and the ever dimwitted Gregory Goyle arguing over some card game of which neither knew how to play, Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass who were now – as Draco had no longer allowed them to gawk at his angelic beauty – sitting on the floor and gossiping about a few Ravenclaw sixth years, and Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott having an animate conversation about something that gave Theo a look of mild disinterest as he stared at a novel in his lap. Draco rolled his eyes at the almost domestic scene and huffed as he shuffled with the pillow under his elbow. When no one responded to his huff, he gave and even bigger one and when no one responded to that, he threw a pillow at Theo’s head.

“What?!” the boy asked, tossing the pillow back with twice as much force, then shaking his shaggy dark auburn hair from his face.

“Oh nothing,” Draco said absently as he cradled the pillow in his arms. Now it was Theo’s time to huff and he kicked Pansy in her behind.

Just as the brunette had pulled out her wand to jinx him, he pointed to his weary blond friend and explained, “I think Draco’s feeling a bit anxious about something.”

“You mean a bit angsty,” Blaise said, a smirk curving his full lips. “He’s always been a dramatic attention hog.”

“Oh, shut up, you prat,” Draco said softly as he rolled onto his back on the couch he singularly occupied. “I think Theo’s right, though. I do feel a bit anxious.”

“About what?” Crabbe asked.

“I’m not sure.”

Blaise rolled his eyes as Daphne muttered, “Are we going to have to yank it out of him?”

Pansy just continued to watch her friend with one arched eyebrow lifted. “Are you just bored and don’t want to admit it?”

“Maybe,” Draco said. “I don’t know, really . . . It’s just that it’s Friday and I cannot believe that absolutely nothing is happening anywhere on the grounds.”

“Well . . .” Blaise began softly, but he trailed off when all eyes landed on him.

“’Well’ what?” Daphne asked.

He shrugged his shoulders and tapped a long finger against his strong chin. “I heard of something that might be going on.”

“Like what?” the blond asked, suddenly quite eager when he had been ready to melt into the couch not even a minute before.

“Well . . . It’s complicated,” he sighed, his light brown eyes dancing with the reflection of the fire as well as his amusement.

“How complicated?”

“I think he means that there are Gryffindors involved,” Theo interjected, licking a finger and using it to turn a page in his book. An automatic groan of disgust rolled through the group.

“Seriously, Blaise,” Pansy chided. “I will never understand your fascination with the pussycat crew. All they ever do is brag to you about how they coulda-woulda-shoulda.”

The black boy shook his head at her and smiled. “You’re just mad that Weasley won’t pay a second of attention to you whenever the Mudblood’s around.”

Pansy crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him, earning a chuckle from Goyle and a roll of the eyes from Draco.

“God, just imagine what it would look like for us Slytherins to crash a Gryffindor party,” Draco mused.

“Actually,” Blaise said. “I was invited.”

“By who?” Daphne hissed.

“Seamus Finnigan,” Theo informed her, earning a nudge in the side with the hard point of Blaise’s elbow. “What? Was no one supposed to know?”

“That slut?!” Pansy gasped, earning a glare from Blaise.

“That word’s a lot coming from you of all people!” he snarled back, causing her to turn to face him head on, but before she could utter a single word, Draco interrupted.

“I just know that you two are not arguing over a bloody Gryffindor!” The feuding pair sobered up immediately; Pansy blushing and Blaise staring up at the suddenly amazing ceiling. The blond sighed and jumped to his feet. “So, I want to go. Where is this party?”

“In the open patch of the forest, right beside the lake,” Theo said quietly, turning the page.
Draco arched a brow at this. To have a party out of the castle, past curfew, and in the Forbidden Forest all at once . . . Those bloody Gryffindors must be brave. “Let’s go.”

Theo sighed and stood, not once looking away from his book, Blaise stood, his face still somewhat sour, the girls stood, and Draco had to bark at Crabbe and Goyle for them to stand. They followed the suddenly energetic blond out of the common room – ignoring the curious glances of other Slytherins along the way – and tried not to argue so loud as to attract teachers or prefects who were actually doing their job.

“Oh shut up, Daphne! I don’t hear you digging into Pansy about it. She’s a prefect and skimping out on her duties just as much as I am,” Draco whispered, though he might as well have yelled that statement seeing as it echoed almost continuously as they made it to the doors outside.

“Don’t bring me into this!” Pansy managed to hiss at a lower volume. “You’re just bitter about not getting Head Boy. Seriously, Draco, did you think you were going to beat MacMillan? I mean the boy practically farts fairy dust!”

“You shut up, too!”

Finally, they made it to the edge of the forest without hexing one another and they slowly, one by one, turned to Blaise for guidance. He rolled his eyes and pushed his way to the front of the pack as he pulled out his wand and set it flat against the palm of his hand. They waited silently for a few minutes as the piece of wood spun excitedly in his hand until it finally stopped, pointing ahead of them, slightly to the left.

“Finnigan showed me how to do it,” he explained as the girls arched brows at him. They slowly made their way deeper and deeper into the trees until they could hear music close by.

“Do you see any lights?”

“I see nothing but a future mark on my permanent record.”

“Well, we need to hurry and find some light. I really need to know the end of this chapter.”

“Oh, shut up, Theo.”

They crept in the direction they knew the lake to be and finally came into the clearing filled with various students. The place seemed lively enough and Draco smiled at the fact that he was not missing out on what seemed to be a worthy topic of discussion the next day. Crabbe and Goyle were the first to step into the party, continuing their argument about their previous game though they had no cards on them, Pansy and Daphne went to socialize with the Ravenclaw sixth years they had been talking about, Blaise immediately made a beeline for a boy with short, sandy brown hair that smiled widely at him upon his arrival, and Theo found a feasible light source to plop down under and continue to read his book.

“Hey, wanna dance?” a deep voice beside the blond asked just as he realized he had been left alone. He smiled at the boy who asked the question – a seventh year that he knew to be the Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but he couldn’t quite grasp his name – and nodded. The boy smiled and pushed a hand through his wild black hair as he offered the other to him. Soon, Draco was in the middle of the large crowd of dancing people, grinding himself onto the cute enough brunet and earning a few breathless sighs of pleasure in his ear for his efforts. “Wanna go to the edge of the woods with me?”

He nodded and allowed himself to be led away. He knew it was stupid, fraternizing both with a Quidditch rival and a house rival, but the boy was just so darn cute. His silver glasses were set at the tip of his nose, his smile was lazy and lopsided, his hair was a mess, but his emerald eyes never once left the silver of Draco’s as he pushed the blond against a tree and leaned forward to kiss him. Draco quickly pulled the glasses off his face and he made an expression of surprise before saying, “Oh . . . duh,” and taking the other’s lips. The boy tasted a bit sweet, as if he had been dipping into the spiked pumpkin juice a moment before he had accompanied Draco. The blond sighed and allowed his hands to roam freely through the Gryffindor’s thick hair, seeing as the boy had taken to roaming his hands around the curve of Draco’s behind.

Draco gasped in surprise as he was pushed further into the other’s groin and he mentally celebrated the Gryffindor’s skills. ‘I’m gonna get some! I’m gonna get some!’ The brunet’s mouth moved to his neck and he mildly wondered if he had melted into the tree. Glad that he had left behind his robes, Draco allowed the brunet to slip his fingers under his crisp white buttondown and just as he thought those fingers were going to dip under the waistband of his trousers . . . Of course; interruption!

“Harry! Hey, Harry!” The brunet pulled away at the tone of the frantic voice and stepped from behind the tree, waving his hand.

“What’s up?” he asked a redhead – Weasley – as the worried boy ran up to him. “What’s the matter?”

“Teachers . . . coming,” he panted. “Get . . . the hell . . . outta here . . .”

“Shit!” the Gryffindor said, holding a hand out to Draco. “Let’s go.”

“Alright,” the blond said and as soon as he grabbed the hand, they shot off into the forest.

“We’ll have to go the back way,” the Gryffindor said. “Sorry, but it’s kinda far from the Slytherin common rooms.”

“That’s okay,” Draco said softly, hoping the idiot would take the hint that he did not intend to go back to his dormitory tonight. The brunet nodded and continued to run; making sure that Draco could keep up, seeing as he was pretty fast. When they finally got back to the castle, they were panting heavily behind a large bush with a small group of seventh year Hufflepuffs.

“Hullo, Harry,” one of them said and the brunet presented him with a dazzling smile.

“Great party, huh?” he asked.

“Yeah,” the Hufflepuff agreed. “Well, see ya.” The small group suddenly made a wild dash across the courtyard and disappeared into the shadows of the castle.

“Come on. Let’s get you back to where you belong,” the brunet told Draco. Draco scowled as the brunet took his hand and actually pulled him to the staircase that led to the Slytherin dormitories. It was all rather discreet, of course; a lot of ducking behind the armor that continuously turned to stare at them and avoiding the pictures that always seemed to want to strike up a conversation, even at this late hour. They made it down the steps safe and sound, but when he noticed the other boy make a gesture of farewell, Draco decided it was best to look coy. He nuzzled up to the other teen, peering up at him through his pretty silver lashes and his stomach flipped when the sexy brunet blushed. The blond slowly wrapped his arms around the other’s waist and he tilted his head back in a way that offered his – now pouting – lips.

The Gryffindor took them without hesitation and Draco found himself pressed against the stone wall next to the door to the dungeons. “Oh God . . . Do you want to come in?”

The brunet suddenly jerked away and he looked a bit sheepish when Draco glared at him in disbelief. “Um . . . Sorry. I don’t think that’s a good idea . . . I-I-I . . . I have Quidditch practice tomo – in the morning.”

“You have Quidditch practice?” Draco asked, crossing his arms as he had to force his gaping mouth close. The Gryffindor actually dared to reject his invitation of sex . . . Did he not know who Draco Malfoy was? Did he not know the Legend of the Most Coveted Fuck?!

“Yeah . . . In the morning.”

“Fine. Good luck with that,” the Slytherin snapped, turning to the huge black door behind him.

“Wait!”

“What?”

“Well . . . You wanna go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?” The brunet flushed deeply and Draco’s stomach flipped again. He walked towards the other boy, who looked at him in shock when he received a gentle kiss.

“Sure. Goodnight . . . uh, Harry,” Draco said with a smile, happy that he had managed to remember the other’s name. The Gryffindor smiled back sheepishly – an expression that seemed most comfortably uncomfortable on his face – and waved awkwardly as the large, black door closed in his cute enough face.