Drarry || One Shots

Bad Ideas

This is so overused and I honestly didn't want to use the idea but I couldn't for the life of me think of another way to place things. Hope y'all don't get bored.

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   Summary
*What happens when someone who only makes the worst life choices finally has a good idea, even though he doesn't know it from the beginning.*

Harry knew the moment he took a seat inside the circle that it was a bad idea. A really bad one. And he had infiltrated the Ministry of Magic with a handful of OWL level wizards, ready to take on the Dark Lord himself, so really, he had pretty high standards regarding bad ideas. Or should we mention that time he attempted theft from the place with the highest security in the world and then escaped on the back of a blind dragon? Or maybe when he was twelve and followed a deadly giant fucking snake in the one place only he could enter? And when he thought following spiders in the Forbidden Forest (I wonder why it's called that) in the dead of night and somehow couldn't believe it why it all went to shit.

Point being, any way you try to put it, Harry Potter is the epitome of terrible life choices, so when he looks across the circle in the eyes of Draco Malfoy, his undying crush, and even that tiny voice inside his head that was usually fucking mute piped up and told him to back the fuck off, he should have. He most definitely should have.

And yet he didn't. One might wonder why. Some might think it safe to speculate that it was just his Gryffindor pride not allowing him to back out. Of course, there is also the possibility that he was just damn stupid.

And accepting a game of truth and dare with a drunk Pansy Parkinson and a scheming Hermione Granger when you've got grave things to hide was, considered by many, not the highest standard for intelligence. Or self preservation, whichever.

And as Harry cast a cautious, almost pleading look at his friend, Hermione just smirked and he knew at once it was no good sign. Hermione knew and he now dearly regretted telling her. Even more so when his eyes skated across the circle and saw the grinning face of Pansy who looked excitedly between him and Malfoy and realized with a dreading feeling in his stomach that she knew too.

And this was oh, so bad.

"Alright, I want to start!" Seamus said, bouncing slightly in place. "Neville!"

"Uh, dare?" Neville chose, a bit wary of the evil glint in his friend's eyes.

"Give Zabini a lap dance."

Neville sighed dramatically before standing up and more or less stumbling towards a half asleep looking Blaise. They were all at least slightly tipsy, Harry was sure there was no person in the room that hadn't drank from the Firewhiskey he had provided for the eight year monthly party in their shared dorm. But Neville? Oh, my pals, he was fucking pissed. So you can imagine the laugh they had when Neville trips-on-own-feet-for-a-living Longbottom, drunk off his face, attempted to give a lap dance. After struggling for a few minutes, he just gave up and plopped down on Blaise's lap, who didn't seem bothered at all. Far from it, actually. He just fondly ruffled the boy's hair and didn't bother telling him to go back to his place.

Ron ended up revealing that he still liked people to read him from Tales of Beedle the Bard and that was how everyone found out that the sneaky fucking bitch that was Parkinson slipped Veritaserum in the alcohol, which had Harry promptly choke on air, eyes unwillingly darting to where Draco, whom he was now friends with, stood, only to find the blond quickly advert his gaze.

Next, Hannah was dared to write a signed love letter to McGonagall and have it sent with the morning post. The girl had done so happily, giggling continuously at the ridiculous, and no doubt badly spelled, words. Harry suspected she wouldn't find it as amusing in the morning when alcohol influence wouldn't be standing between her and rational thought.