Drarry Fanfiction

Good Shagging in Just Five Lessons

Drarry, Smut, 9,783 words
By: love knows no bounds

You showed me how to do
Exactly what you do
How I fell in love with you

And when I tried it
I could see you fall
And I decided
It's not a trip at all

You taught it to me too
Exactly what you do
And now you love me too

It didn't need to make sense. He didn't need to know how. But he did know why. It was just another way to humiliate Potter. The newest, most personal way. It was brilliant, flawless except for the fact that he was only just developing it thanks to Weasley's loud whispers.

"Potter," Draco said shortly, leaning against the door jam of the Potion's supply closet. The other boy gave him an irritated toss of the head, not taking his eyes off the ingredient labels. "I heard about your little...problem."

Potter's head jerked to him, causing Draco to smirk.

"What problem?" he asked, voice a little too high.

Draco's smirk only grew. "That you are terribly inexperienced."

"I have a girlfriend!" he protested, turning back to the shelves and snatching the nearest thing off. He made to stalk past but Draco grabbed his arm.

"Weasley back there just told you she said you can't even kiss properly. Kiss, Potter. How pathetic." Forcing a little bit of pity to shine in his eyes, Draco noticed Potter slowly deflating. This was going to be easy. No one liked being told they lacked in the sexual department, not that Draco knew from personal experience. He hadn't done anything with anyone, holding up the Malfoy name. Only the best could have a Malfoy.

Potter crossed his arms defensively, glowering straight into Draco's eyes. "So I don't sleep around. Susan likes that about me."

"But if you can't even kiss properly, Potter, no one will give you the time of day."

Watching the conflict in Potter's eyes was the best part of it. Either that shade of green showed everything or Potter was just that easy to read. He needed lessons in holding in emotions, like his father had taught him. Lessons...

"I can offer you lessons," Draco suggested, moving closer and whispering so anyone walking over wouldn't hear. Snape would probably come to investigate soon. He always kept such a tight leash on Potter, trying to catch him at everything.

Brow furrowed, Potter asked cautiously, "What do you mean?" Draco simply raised his eyebrows, not knowing what he meant either. Lessons? It sounded good. It was a sure-fire way to get the best out of Potter's humiliation. "I -- I won't touch anyone that's not in a skirt."

Draco scoffed. What was that about?

"Oh, God, Potter!" He refrained from shivering. That was disgusting, it was. "You're one sick pervert!"

"Then what'd you mean?" the Gryffindor wailed, stomping out of the supply closet and plopping in his seat next to Weasley, face almost as red as the blood traitor's hair. Draco wasn't sure if he should laugh or be angry that Potter thought he meant that. Thought he was capable of thinkingthat.

Deciding the humiliation of Potter and tons of blackmail was more important than whatever Potter thought of him, Draco quickly scrawled a note out and slipped it in Potter's hand on the way out of class. Now all he had to do was wait until tonight. If Potter showed, let the games begin.

The rest of the day Draco plotted. He plotted and plotted and came up with nothing. What had possessed him to say that? To set this up? Sure, blackmail was all fine and dandy, but not when he had absolutely no ideas.