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“Truth or dare, Draco?” Pansy sing-songed for the second time. Draco took a long, slow sip from his tumbler of Ogden's. “Truth. Or. Dare,” Pansy re-iterated.
“I’m contemplating,” he drawled, raising his tumbler for another sip.
“Crowley!” she exclaimed draping herself dramatically across the sofa and onto Theo’s lap. She fluttered her eyelashes at Theo, “Let me know when His Majesty makes a decision.”
A smirk quirked at the edge of Draco’s lips as he held his Ogden's up to the fire and slowly swirled the amber liquid around the glass, enjoying every moment of prolonging Pansy’s suffering. “Dare.”
“How very Gryffindor,” Pansy said pulling herself upright again, “what’s wrong, no truths left?”
He’d picked truth in all the other rounds, twisting his answers every which way and he knew she knew it, “No more I’d want to share with the school gossip.”
“Darling,” she leaned forward and plucked his tumbler from his grasp, “I mean this from the very bottom of my heart–”
“The cold dead vacuum in your chest?”
“–the very bottom of my heart; your secrets aren’t worth shit, Petit Prince, not even a whisper over the breakfast table.” She emptied his glass and indicated to Theo she needed a top-up.
“We’ll see,” Draco murmured under his breath.
“Pardon?”
“Don’t you have a dare for me, Pans?” he asked, his voice saccharine-sweet.
Pansy leaned back against the sofa, sipping on Draco’s whisky as she deliberated her next move. “I dare you,” she said at last, “to kiss the next person to walk into the room.”
Draco’s mask didn’t fall as he surreptitiously looked around the eighth year common room; it seemed most of his peers were accounted for: the usual Huffleclaw conglomeration were around the study tables, the rowdy Gryffindors were playing what sounded like a particularly brutal game of Exploding Snap by the window, and from his own corner only Blaise and Daphne were missing having disappeared shortly after dinner for some Astronomy Tower alone time. It was after curfew and so, he reasoned, they were only two likely suspects to come through the door and he certainly wouldn’t say no to either of them.
“Draco?” Pansy called him out of his rumination, “What’s the problem? Chicken?”
“Never.” He took his tumbler from her and leaned back into his armchair, the dictionary definition of relaxed.
“So,” Theo asked, “what now?”
“I think we can trust Draco to fulfill his obligations when the time comes,” Draco nodded in acknowledgement, “so, while we wait, Theodore, truth or dare?”
“Isn’t it Draco’s turn to ask?” Draco waved his hand dismissively, it wasn’t worth the argument, he let Pansy have her fun.
“Fine,” Theo said, “truth.”
“Who’s Draco shagging?”
“I don’t know.”
“But he is shagging someone?” Pansy pressed.
“That’s not the question you asked.”
“Okay, is Draco shagging someone?”
“You only get one question.”
“But you didn’t answer my first question, so I get another, right Draco?”
Draco quirked an eyebrow, of people to arbitrate this debate he was hardly impartial, “He answered your question truthfully, Pans. He doesn’t know.”
“But,” she countered, “by saying he doesn’t know who you’re shagging implies that he knows you are shagging, he just doesn’t know who you’re shagging and I was simply trying to clarify his answer. It’s all in the spirit of the game, Draco, Truth or dare, is his truth that he doesn’t know who you’re shagging ‘I don’t know’? Or is his truth that he knows you’re not shagging anyone and his truth should have been ‘Nobody?’”
“Why do you care?”
“I just want to play by the rules, Draco.”
“You’ve never given a shit about rules in your life, Parkinson.”
“I’ve reformed,” she said, hands held aloft in fake surrender.
“He’s been shagging someone in our dorm, but I don’t know who.” Draco’s eyes narrowed as he glared at Theo. “Just playing by the rules.”
“You’re a lying wench,” Draco hissed at Pansy, “and you,” he said turning to Theo, “are dead to me.”
“Of course, darling,” she cooed. “Who of us haven’t been dead to you at some time or another? Now, are you going to take your turn or are you going to sit there and silently– Draco! Where are you going‽”
He didn’t break his gait as he pushed his glass of whisky into her hands and strode towards the door. In six strides he had the newcomer pressed up against the wall; lips, tongues and hands everywhere.
“Hi,” Draco said breathlessly as he pulled away.
“Hi yourself,” Harry stammered back. “We do this here now?” he asked uncertainly.
“We’re playing Truth or Dare.”
“Oh,” Harry’s eyes dropped to the floor, “a game.”
“I have to kiss the first person to walk through the door.”
“Oh. But didn’t Blaise...?”
“Walked in before you, I know.” Draco placed his fingers under Harry’s chin and tipped his head up to look him in the eyes, “Don’t go anywhere,” he said as he untangled himself. Draco practically sprinted back to the Slytherin corner, placed the chastest of kisses on Blaise’s lips and returned to Harry. “Game over.”