Unknown. Impossible. Forbidden.

Chapter 7: Sober

Harry bit his lip and closed his eyes, suppressing every urge to lean into what he was feeling. Did he especially like Draco sitting on his cock? He damn loved it, but he didn't like being the one being teased.

"Lanie! He's obviously in pain, so let me get off! Is there something I can do to help stop the pain?" Draco asked, urgently, oblivious to the real reason Harry was red in the face.

The Hufflepuff's laugh was joined Blaise's.

"He isn't in pain, D." Then a devilish grin spread across her face, "You really wanna help him?"

Draco nodded radically, "Of course!"

Breckinridge smiled, "You could help him, but you're ass will be on the line. Literally."

The Animagus elbowed his best friend, and his eyebrows, "You better keep it down. If he's hard just by you sitting imagine how he'll be with you bouncing."

Malfoy's face turned crimson, "Stop! Shut up, that's enough." He looked at Harry, "Tell them that they're full of it."

Instead of responding, he stared blankly at the side profile of the Veela's face, memorizing every beautiful aspect of it. He wanted to comment on how luminous his skin seemed to be, or how his eyes shone like the stars. Instead, words refused to come out.

Draco's jaw nearly hit the carpeted floor, as he concern crept upon him that his roommate wasn't answering the question, "Blaise, why isn't he responding?"

"Ooh, you're gonna get a little gift tonight." He said, letting out a guttural moan. Lanie joined in.

Harry remained silent, his ADHD kicking in as he fixated on the blonde.

"Make it stop." Draco muttered to Blaise and Lanie, his eyes pleading.

"Don't look at us, you're the Veela."

Zabini reached under the table and pulled out a black duffel bag. The contents inside were clinking, "Let's just play Truth or Drink." He then pulled out 3 bottles of butterbeer.

"What are we? Children?" Malfoy asked, shaking his head at the absurd idea.

"Yes. We are. We are delinquents, stuck in detention. It's like that one movie, The Breakfast Club."

The blonde's eyebrows quirked up, and he nodded, "I've never seen it, but you do have a point."

"I am so in." The Hufflepuff chuckled.

Draco stood up, and moved off of the Gryffindor's lap, and back down on the floor, "Great idea, let the recovering alcoholic drink."

"I am not an alcoholic. I simply like drinking one too many on the weekends. That's it."

"They're always in denial. Alcoholics." The blonde Slytherin stated, dryly.

"Right." Harry said, blinking back into self-awareness, "I'd be down for a drink."

"Why don't I start us off with the infamous first-year type questions. Lanie, darling, do you fancy me?" Blaise asked, his face full of false bravado, masking the apprehension he was feeling.

She yawned, grabbing the ginger butterbeer, "That is for me to know and you to find out." She took a drink. In full honesty, she knew she liked him, but who would she be if she openly admitted it? No, she had to keep her suitor on edge.

"Time to be really original. How about it? How do you feel about me?" She mimicked his voice.

"Don't you wish you knew?" He murmured flirtatiously, taking the drink out of her hands, and sipping some. He then nodded to the taller boy, notifying him that it was now his turn.