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Harry took another gulp of the firewhisky.
Huh.
Firewhisky tasted really good. Harry didn't know why he tried to say no to Ginny when she offered him to drink. Because this was really good. And this was what? His fourth cup? It made him feel kind of fuzzy, but it in a giddy sort of way.
Harry looked around the Room of Requirement and all of the prefects were surprisingly present even though the Head Boy and Head Girl's sending off party they were holding was technically illegal but Ginny was the one to suggest it and everyone seemed to be on board because... everyone knew Ginny threw the best parties.
Harry giggled to himself and continued scanning the Room of Requirement.
Ah. Ginny was flirting with Dean. And Hermione was near her too, trying to fend off Neville's advances. Then... where was... His eyes zeroed in on Tom Riddle, sitting on one of the sofas, looking so relaxed and regal in his Slytherin uniform, buttons of his shirt unbuttoned at the top, making him look... hot. Yes. That's the word for it. Hot. Even he was here. Probably only to pay respects to his Slytherin senior, Severus Snape, who was the current Head Boy.
Harry frowned.
Tom Riddle had yet to tease him today when he was usually so consistent about it, there were almost times when Harry knew exactly when the Slytherin would appear to taunt him. Harry honestly thought he had a schedule for teasing Harry, busy as the Slytherin was... top of his class, president of a number of clubs, and being appointed as the new Head Boy for the next school year and all. But he always had time to fight with Harry since they were first years. It was routine.
He looked at the blonde sitting next to Tom. Ah, Lucius. Pretty, if one liked blondes and all. But. Certainly nowhere near Harry. At least, that's what Harry hoped.
Why was Tom smirking at Lucius?
He knew that smirk. He's seen that smirk a thousand times. That smirk should only be directed at him.
Harry huffed.
If Tom wasn't going to fight with him today, then maybe he should be the one to initiate.
But first... Harry drank the remaining firewhisky in his cup and started making his way to Tom Riddle.
Harry woke up with a splitting headache.
Merlin. What had he done last night?
Right. The Head Boy and Girl’s sending off party. But he really couldn’t remember anything else. All he remembered was going into the party, and Ginny goading him into drinking firewhisky, and him foolishly taking on the challenge… and then—nothing.
“I—what?”
“Harry,” Hermione said, looking pitifully at him as they took a seat at the great hall. “You tried to make out with him.”
“And you were so shameless about it too.” Ginny said teasingly.
“How—why—Ginny—“ Harry looked at her, widening his eyes in threat, because if anything, this was all her fault. “—why did you let me?!”
Ginny only grinned at him. Hermione at least looked guilty. “We tried, Harry,” she said. “But… but you wouldn’t let us.”
“Wouldn’t let you?” Harry asked incredulously.
Hermione looked uncomfortable. “It was… It was your wandless magic, Harry… an invisible wall wouldn’t let us near you or him.”
“I always knew you were kind of a hoe, Harry, but really?” Ginny goaded. “Violence just so you could stick your tongue into Tom Riddle’s throat? Ha!”
“He—I—that asshole?”
“Oh, Harry,” Hermione said apologetically. “You were calling him things worse than that last night.”
“And you were talking about your asshole too, if I remember correctly,” Ginny said wiggling her eyebrows in a suggestive manner.
Harry covered his face and groaned. Why? Why did he do something like that? That bastard will never let him live this down. “How am I supposed to face him after this? He's going to lord this over me until we graduate!”
“If it’s any consolation," Hermione said consolingly. "He didn’t actually try to push you away."
“Yeah, Harry. He was smirking like crazy,” Ginny added.
“Of course he was!” Harry shrieked. “I made a total fool of myself in front of my sworn enemy, Ginny!” He rasped. “I am screwed.”
“You were also talking about that last night," Ginny said with a mischievous grin on her face. "But you were actually begging him to fuc—“
“He’s coming this way!” Hermione whispered urgently.
“Ginny,” Harry said in between gritted teeth. “You better laugh as if I said the funniest thing in the world—“
Ginny immediately broke into a loud laugh while Harry pretended to have the best conversation in his life.
Harry took a quick look at Riddle’s approaching figure, not a hair out of place and uniform perfectly pressed as usual, and the bastard looked so fucking smug—
“Potter,” Riddle said in that stupid deep smooth voice of his.
Holy fuck.
He was going to die. This was it. This was it. He was going to die of pure embarrassment and Riddle—asshole that he was—was enjoying this too much for Harry’s sanity. Why did he do it? What the fuck was wrong with him? Who in their right mind makes out with their worst enemy?
Harry took a deep breath and steeled himself. He was a goddamn Gryffindor and he was not going to back down from a direct challenge. He lifted his head up and looked at Riddle straight in the eye, defiant.
“Riddle,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Ah,” he said, looking more arrogant than he usually did. “I believe it was daddy last night.”
Harry. Blushed. He was pretty sure he was as red as Gryffindor’s tablecloth. Harry looked at Ginny with wide accusing eyes, asking her silently why they excluded this particular information from their retelling of the story. She only grinned while giving him a thumbs up, mouthing you did call him that, you whore excitedly.
“What’s the matter, Harry?” Riddle goaded. “Does your mouth hurt from last night? Why, with all the sucking—“
“Tom!” Harry screamed. “There are first years here!”
“There were first years last night as well,” he smirked. “I must say they looked traumatized by your ardent display of affection or should I say arousa—“
“Tom Riddle!” Harry screeched. “I swear to god if you open your mouth one more time, I will—“
“What haven’t you done to me yet, Harry?” The bastard purred.
One of these days, Harry will kill him.
“Look, okay, I was drunk,” Harry began, just wanting to get it over with as fast as possible. “I honestly didn’t know what I was doing. I’m sorry. So please, stop. Stop teasing me.”
Tom Riddle, arguably—Harry likes to think, because there were totally other boys who were more handsome than him—the most handsome boy in all of Hogwarts, looked too pleased with Harry’s obvious discomfort. The perpetual smirk that was always in his face was wider this time and carried twice the malice Harry’s used to seeing.
“I’m not teasing you, love,” he said. Teasingly. “I must confess I did enjoy it last night.” He flashed a predatory grin at Harry which did nothing to comfort him or calm him.
“I’m sure you did,” Harry said annoyed. “You’ve always been quite the pervert—“
“You were the one who molested me, I was just sitting there when you unceremoniously sat on my lap—“
“OH MY GOD!” Harry covered his face with his hands, red to the tips of his ears. “Will you please, shut up!”
“Make me,” was Tom’s too pleased reply.
Harry looked up, anger making him stare at the taller boy. “If you’re trying to use some cheesy, overused line on me to get me to kiss you—“
“Do I have to make you drunk then?”
“No—“
“Then—“ Tom stepped forward, and with that same irritating smirk on his face, kissed Harry.
Oh.
Flashes of what happened last night went through Harry’s brain.
Well.
Harry looked at Tom and the tall bastard seemed to know exactly what he was thinking and was getting closer to him again, and Harry should have avoided him, he really should have, but he stood there unable to move—maybe not wanting to move, who knows at this point—and let Tom press another kiss at his lips.
The Slytherin pulled away, lifting Harry’s chin with his long fingers, and smirked. “Walk to class with me?”
In which, Harry could only gape in response. Because. Because. Because. Tom. Riddle. His sworn enemy who had teased him since they were in first year. Tom Riddle who was—really, if Harry was being honest—the handsomest boy that walked the halls of Hogwarts, was asking him to walk to class with him. Like they were… like they were… inarelationship.
“Harry!” Ginny hissed. Harry looked at her blankly. “Tom is asking you a question!”
“I—“ Harry looked at Tom. “Is this a joke?” He asked suspiciously.
“Oh my god,” he heard Ginny mutter incredulously. “This idiot!”
“Of course not, Harry,” Tom said a lethal smile on his face. “I’m sure, by that look on your face, that you remember what we promised we’d do if you’re already… in the right state of mind.”
Harry did. He remembered all the bullshit he said last night. Like some cruel punishment for breaking the rules and drinking firewhisky in Hogwart’s hallowed halls. He was going to kill Ginny.
“B-But—“
“For crying out loud you were doing worse things with him last night!” Ginny said exasperatedly.
“Ginny!” Harry said in warning. Why couldn’t everybody just shut up?
“Harry!” Ginny said with the same venom in her voice.
“Okay.” Harry said suddenly, looking at Tom and hoping the taller boy did not notice how red he was. “I’ll walk with you to class.”
“Excellent,” Tom said smoothly, looking too pleased with himself.
Harry really wanted to regret his decision. He really did. But it was pretty hard to when Tom shoved him into a broom closet, pushed Harry roughly against the wall, and starting kissing him in places that made him press himself wantonly against the taller boy's body.
“Why aren’t you paying attention to me?” Harry said loudly, as he sat unceremoniously on Tom’s lap, hands fisting on the taller boy’s robes. Then, he pointed at Lucius and said, “He’s not as pretty as me, Tom.”
Lucius rose an eyebrow at Tom in inquiry and Tom, looking amused at the drunken state of Harry, said, “He’s drunk.”
“Harry!” Hermione shrieked. “Riddle, I’m so sorry. Here let me—“
“Don’t touch me!” Harry said burying his face into Tom’s robes.
“Harry,” Ginny said looking shocked, then when she saw just whose lap Harry was sitting on, smirked. "Get off him." she reprimanded half-heartedly, not really meaning any word.
“Why are you trying to take me away from him,” Harry whined again then he looked at Tom. “Make them go away, Tom.”
“Harry, you hate him, remember?” Hermione said again. Her hand touched Harry’s robes and—
“I said, don’t touch me!” Magic trembled in the Room of Requirement and all the people surrounding Harry and Tom had been pushed away from them in distance.
Harry looked up at Tom with dazed eyes. “K-kiss me, Tom,” he hiccuped.
Riddle looked amused. “You’re drunk, Harry.”
Harry frowned. “You have to kiss me to make it up to me.”
“For what?” Riddle asked as if trying to humor Harry.
“For talking to Lucius instead of me,” Harry said childishly. “You were too busy to fight with me today,” he explained. “You were too busy with Lucius.”
Then he pouted. Harry pouted. At Tom. Riddle. Harry Potter, sworn enemy of the Slytherin king since they were first years, pouted at Tom Riddle.
“You’re drunk,” Riddle said again, eyes looking at Harry, still amused.
Then Harry, frustrated, pressed his lips into the taller boy’s and forced his tongue into Tom’s mouth.
Handsomest boy in Hogwarts? They should call Tom the most delicious boy in Hogwarts because damn—
“Harry,” Tom said, voice suddenly low.
Harry opened his eyes drunkenly. “You’re not kissing me back!” He complained.
“You’re drunk,” Tom said rather seriously.
“You’re hot,” Harry giggled then he frowned again. “But you’re not kissing me back.”
Tom looked away from Harry and Harry frowned. Why was Tom not paying attention to him?
“Tom,” he whined again. “Kiss me.”
“We have to get you to Granger,” he said looking behind Harry.
“No!” Harry screamed. His magic trembled again and everything went dark. Now the wall was entirely black and Tom couldn’t see anyone but Harry. Good. Harry giggled. “Now you can pay attention to me.”
Then he kissed Tom again, wrapping his arms around his neck, sucking on his bottom lip hungrily. Harry felt the Slytherin stiffen. Harry kissed him harder.
“Harry,” Tom said. Harry whined. “No.” he said lips quirking slightly at the side.
“Mmmm,” Harry whined in gibberish. “Why not?" Harry complained. Then his face brightened up, as if an idea suddenly came to him. "Is it because you want more?” He asked, eyes wide. “We can do more than just kiss,“ He giggled then looked at Tom with excitement, “Do you want t-to—" he hiccuped, "—want to fu.. fuck me in the ass—“
Tom pressed a quick kiss on Harry’s lips—probably to stop him from talking—and Harry immediately melted in Tom’s arms. The wall may be black but Harry was talking so loudly everyone on the other side could still probably hear him. Not that he particularly cared at the moment.
“I’ll tell you what, love,” Tom murmured into his ears. Harry hummed happily. Tom called him love. He should think of something to call him too. “I’ll kiss you properly when you’re not drunk anymore.”
Harry nodded sleepily, a sort of dumb pleased smile on his face. Tom’s arms tightened around him, he hadn’t even noticed when the Slytherin wrapped them around his waist.
“Tom?” He said blinking his eyes slowly, looking at Tom’s stupidly handsome face. “I t-think,” he hiccuped. “I think I'm going to call you daddy.” Tom’s eyebrow lifted, and his ever present smirk widened. “Is that okay?” Harry asked seriously. Tom only chucked into his ear.
“Sleep, Harry,” was the last thing Harry heard before he buried his face into Tom’s neck contentedly to finally close his eyes.