ᴅɪsᴘᴇʟ ᴍʏ ʙᴏʀᴇᴅᴏᴍ | ᴍᴀʀᴀᴅᴇᴜʀs' ᴇʀᴀ

Chapter 3: The Right of the First Strike

Slytherin's dungeons, dorms, 7:30 

The absence of windows in Slytherin's dorms was fully compensated by dozen magic candles, surrounded by a pale halo of light from fluttering tongues of fire. The falling light created bizarre glare on silk blankets and was reflected in antique, artfully decorated mirrors.

Lucius Malfoy drowsily stretched, not opening his eyes. Warm, almost hot hand lay on his waist. Did some girl decide to stay with him until morning again? Lucius sighed wearily. Again, he'll have to get her out, listening to tearful exhortations about his hard heart, and endure these infinitely sad looks. As if he ever promised something at least to one of them.

Lucius's left hand rested on the side of a mysterious stranger and, deciding that morning sex wasn't such a bad idea, he gently ran his fingers along her back from shoulder to waist. Wasn't her back too... broad and muscular?

Malfoy opened his eyes sharply. The first thing he saw in front of him were wide dark gray eyes. 

Sirius Black and Lucius Malfoy stared at each other stupefyingly.

"What are you doing in my bedroom?!" they shouted at the same time, jumping off from each other.

"This is my bedroom!" they continued the duet.

Both looked around themselves. Green draperies on the walls, silk blankets embroidered with silver threads, antique mirrors and furniture made of expensive black wood. The room of Slytherin's prefect.

Black looked around in panic, searching for his wand or, at least, clothes. All that was on him was black pajamas pants and complete absence of anything else.

Malfoy, meanwhile, looked around with a similar purpose. Finally, after discovering his robe, he wrapped himself with the speed of a bullet and grabbed a wand from the nightstand, immediately pointing it at Black. 

"What the fuck, Black, are you doing in my room? In my bed?!"

"How should I know! Won't be surprised if this is your doing!"

"Do I look like a whore who sleeps with every Gryffindor dickhead if he turns out to be naked in her sight?"

Their discussion was very rudely interrupted. A cry filled with inhuman fury came from behind the wall, then the roar of opening door and, judging by the sound, someone fell in the hallway.

Malfoy and Sirius rushed to the door. Black managed to do it first; opening the door, he met with panicky looking James Potter nose to nose. Hair on his head was still slightly smoking from the effects of the Fire-Making Spell, his irises were widened and a silhouette remotely resembling Severus Snape was behind him.

"Run!" they shouted at the same time and rushed to the stairs leading out of the Slytherin's dorms.

Because of the turn, they didn't have time to slow down and crashed into the girl. All three fell to the floor, desperately trying to untangle their arms-legs-heads.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Marauders!"

James and Sirius groaned. Beata Sprinkles! Why were they so unlucky?

"It's not us!" they chanted in a chorus and rushed to the portrait opening at a record speed.

Five minutes later, reaching Gryffindor tower, they stopped, trying to catch their breath.

"Now whole Hogwarts will know about this," Sirius said desperately, still breathing heavily.

"No way, Padfoot. You think Malfoy wants to make it public?" James sighed.