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firewhiskeyficTitle: Samhain = Orgies
Author:kbrick
I am of legal drinking age in my region:yes
Pairing(s)/Characters/Fandom: Drarry/ HP
Challenge/Prompts used:harvest festival
Summary:Luna talks Harry into going to a Samhain festival
Rating/Warnings: E / it's not as sexy as it should be my bad
Word count: 2213
Author's Notes (if any): none
“So, it’s a Halloween party,” Harry said, settling his chin on his hand. He was at a coffee shop with Luna, the one where they always met, even though the coffee was complete shit and the tables were weirdly sticky. She liked the tabby cat that lounged around on the window ledge, and also the tattooed witch who owned the shop. Harry couldn’t quite figure out the nature of that relationship; with Luna, it was nearly impossible to tell the difference between her lovers and her friends. She and the other witch might just get together to do tarot readings and call on the spirits. Or they might fuck. Could go either way.
“No, no,” Luna said, nabbing the raisin bran muffin off his plate. He didn’t mind, because the muffins here tasted like sand. “It’s not Halloween. It’s Samhain.”
“Right, but that’s Halloween.”
“Absolutely not,” Luna said, looking as irritated as he’d ever seen her, which was mildly. Although she might have been making that face because the muffin was so awful. “Halloween is a little baby holiday, Harry. It’s a teeny newborn baby that still wears nappies. Samhain is one of the oldest holidays in the world. It’s a threshold festival.”
“Threshold?” Harry asked.
“When the veils between the worlds are thinnest,” Luna said, her blue eyes impossibly big and ghostly pale. “When the barrier between the living and the dead ceases to exist for a single evening. When spirits roam the earth, and –”
“But can I wear my costume?” Harry wanted to know. This was of utmost importance, because he had a really cool costume this year.
“No.”
“But then what’s the point?” he said, throwing his hands up in the air.
“Lots of anonymous sex,” she said. “Also blood sacrifices..”
“Blood what? And okay, yes, I’ll go.”
Thank Merlin, Ron and Hermione agreed to go to the bloody festival. Harry was afraid to go with just Luna, honestly. She was likely going to be throwing herself into one of the open tombs (Apparently they were going to be opening tombs? Or something? The details were fuzzy.) and then Harry’d be all alone with the weird Samhain celebrants with whom he was to have anonymous sex. And he was almost positive the anonymous sex wouldn’t come until later in the night, which meant he’d have to make conversation with these people first. No thank you very much.
Harry threw one last, longing look at his Oops-I-Did-It-Again-Britney-Spears costume, which he was not allowed to wear, and promised it silently that he’d put it on next year, when he went to a normal Halloween party. Then he flooed over to Ron’s and made Ron put away his Slave-4-U-Britney-Spears costume, while Hermione huffed and said I told him no costumes but he doesn’t listen!
“We should drink first, right?” Ron asked. “I think we should drink first.”
“Obviously,” Harry said.
“I think it might be more fun if we do,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “I think this party might be a little…you know. Luna-y.”
“Right,” said Harry, and poured them all shots of vodka.
A few drinks later, and they were apparating to the coordinates Luna’d given him. After a sickening lurch and a nauseating twist, they found themselves in a wide-open pasture, rogue sheep huddled near a fence post, baa-ing indignantly at the newcomers..Harry could hear voices and the beat of drums coming from beyond a nearby hill.
“Well, come on then,” Hermione said, setting off towards the sound after grabbing Ron and Harry’s arms.
Once they crested the hill, Harry saw the drums. The drums were being played by men in loincloths. It seemed much too cold to be wearing a loincloth, but mostly Harry was mad that he wasn’t allowed to wear his Oops-I-Did-It-Again Britney Spears costume. Because why were loincloths okay while naughty schoolgirl ensembles were verboten? Absolute shite, that.
“Sexist fucks,” Harry muttered darkly.
“Always,” said Hermione, nodding.
Really, Harry thought, as he glanced around at the people illuminated by bonfires, he and Ron and Hermione had more clothes on than anybody.
“Hi!’ came a voice from behind, and then Luna jumped on Harry’s back like a little naked spider monkey. “You came!”
“You didn’t think I was going to come?” Harry asked, peeling her off.
“No, I knew you would. Once I mentioned the orgies.”
“What?” said Hermione.
“Nice,” said Ron.
“Here,” said Luna, offering Harry a goblet.
Harry took a few gulps, and then passed it to Ron..
He opened his mouth to say something, but forgot what it was, because suddenly, he was so hot he could hardly stand it. “Holy fuck, why is it so hot?” he asked.
Luna smiled serenely at him.
“Oi!” cried Ron. “It’s hot as tits!” He started to peel off his jumper. Harry decided that was a good idea and started peeling off his jumper.
“It’s toasty,” said Hermione, fanning herself.
“Uh huh,” said Luna. “No need for that coat.”
“Right,” said Hermione, shucking it off.
“Why’s it so hot? It’s practically winter,” Harry said, unbuckling his belt.
Luna laughed. “Because it’s Samhain.”
“That’s not an answer,” Harry said.
Luna kicked his bare arse with her bare foot.
Everyone around the bonfire was in various stages of undress, and the drums seemed to be beating in time to Harry’s heart.
“This is how the orgies start? With the dancing?” Ron asked, looking around.
“Ronald,” said Hermione sternly, and then ruined it by giggling.
“Come on!” Luna said, pulling at Hermione’s hand. And then the two of them were jumping into the line of dancers by the fire.
Ron looked at Harry. Harry looked at Ron. “I can see your weenus,” said Ron.
“Don’t look at my weenus!” cried Harry, covering up. “And why are we calling it a weenus? That’s fucking dumb!”
“Godric, I’m so hot. Why’s it so hot?”
“Because Luna poisoned us,” Harry said.
“Yeah. Right. Harry, I can see your wang.”
After drinking more of the mysterious sweat-inducing beverage, Harry decided that it didn’t just make him hot. It also made him drunk. Luna said they were opening up the burial mound on the other side of the hill, but Harry wasn’t really into that. “I think I’ll hang out by the bonfire.”
“And the naked people,” said Ron.
“Ronald!” Hermione scolded, and then started giggling. “And let me remind you that you are one of the naked people.”
“I know,” Ron said, and waggled his wang.
“Nobody needs to see that, Weasel,” came a clipped and wankerish voice from behind Harry. He whirled and nearly fell over at the sight of that familiar, pointy face.
“Malfoy,” he said.
“Hello, Potter,” Malfoy said, looking over Harry with one judgmental eyebrow raised. “Nice dong.”
“Why is everyone looking at my dong? For fuck’s sake, there are other dongs to look at. Stop looking at mine!”
“Well, I don’t want to look at Weasley’s,” Malfoy said, lip curled. “Ew.”
“Excuse you,” Ron said. “I have a very nice –”
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, come on Ron. We’re going with Luna to the burial mound.”
“Ugh, why?” Ron whined. “I want to stay here!”
“Because it is interesting!” said Hermione.
“We’re going to be calling on the spirits,” Luna said. “Also there are orgies down there.”
“Okay, fine,” Ron said, huffing. “I guess I’ll come.””
“Heh, yeah you will,” Harry said as they left.
“What are you, twelve?” Malfoy sneered..
“No, I am not. I am Twenty-something, the same age as you, you pillock.”
“Prove it!” Malfoy said, his eyes narrowing.
“Prove that I’m twenty-something? How exactly do you expect me to do that?”
“Show me your drivers’ license. Or have sex with me,” said Malfoy.
“Er, what?” said Harry, because he had to say er at least once in every conversation or else. It was like saying Candyman into the mirror three times. Who even knew WHAT would happen.
“You heard me,” Malfoy said. And fuck, he was hot. Harry had noticed, sure, back in the locker room at Hogwarts. The Quidditch locker room that was never featured in canon because of all the illicit things that happened there. Not suitable for a young adult series, if you know what I mean. But listen, there was sex. In those locker rooms by the Quidditch pitch. Lots of sex. Oodles. But not with Harry and Malfoy, although Harry had managed to catch a peek at Malfoy’s bum. Probably. Of course he had. It was Malfoy, for Christ’s sake. He could be up to something and it was up to Harry to monitor his bum. For reasons.
ANYWAY, Malfoy had always been very lithe and sexy and like, sort of milky, undead, wasting-away-Plague-victim pale, but in a hot way. Like a sexy pale ghost. And his bum was the sort of bum you could bounce a galleon off of. Very perky, his bum. Harry had thought a time or two about biting it.
But it seemed like he’d gotten hotter since the last time Harry’d seen him. Like he’d filled out a little, and was that a sexy tattoo on his forearm? Or no, wait. That was the Dark Mark.
Meh. Bygones.
There were more important things to think about now, like his bum. Also his dingaling, because Malfoy was hung like a bloody horse.
“Neigh,” said Harry.
“Huh?” said Malfoy.
“Nothing,” said Harry. “Is it hot?”
“I dunno, Potter,” said Malfoy throatily, stepping closer. “Is it?”
“Er, what?” said Harry.
“I like your outfit,” said Malfoy.
“But I’m naked,” said Harry.
“Exactly,” said Malfoy. “If you had clothes on, they’d be hideous. Luckily, you don’t.”
“Listen, not all of us are posh wankers who wear bespoke suits to Tesco,” Harry said.
“As if I would go to Tesco,” Malfoy said. “That’s what servants are for.”
“Sweet Christ on a Cracker, you are so loathsome, and yet I want to suck your cock,” Harry said.
“Obviously, it’s enormous. And I’m not actually loathsome anymore, Potter. I’ve changed. I opened up seventeen orphanages and I donate all of my income to a crup rescue organization. And also I adopted Teddy. And I don’t actually have servants, I was just kidding. I live in a one room apartment and cook all my own meals.”
Harry hummed and set his mouth close to Malfoy’s ear. “That’s hot. ARe you actually down and out Draco? Or are you reclusive, wealthy, but redeemed Draco? You’re being confusing.”
“I’m neither,” Malfoy groaned. “I’m promiscuous playboy Draco. Rawr. But luckily for you, I’m not engaged to Astoria. So this will be relatively easy.”
“Easy as in?”
“Easy as in I will fuck your brains out and you will become absolutely obsessed with me. More obsessed, anyway. You’re already pretty obsessed.”
“Yes, I am,” said Harry. “Have I told you how much I like your bum?”
“No, but listen. My bum is neither here nor there. Look at this shlong, Potter. I’m obviously top Draco.”
“That doesn’t work for me,” Harry said, hanging his head regretfully. “I’m top Harry.”
“Hm. Okay.. We could…frot? I’m always up for some high-quality frottage.”
“Yes, oh yes, please! That would be lovely.” Harry looked into Malfoy’s smoky grey orbs and realized he loved him. Like a lot.
“You have the most beautiful orbs.”
“No, no. Your orbs are the most beautiful,” Malfoy said. Now kiss me with your pillowy lips.”
“Hold on, let me take off my glasses.”
Malfoy screamed.
“What!” Harry cried, nearly expiring from the shock.
“Your eyes are so beautiful without your glasses. Your lashes are so long. Your face, so perfect.” Malfoy traced his scar with one finger.
“Malfoy?”
“Yes, Harry?”
“You called me Harry,” Harry said, his eyes welling up with tears.
Malfoy smirked, and it wasn’t even an appropriate time for a smirk. “Say it,” he said.
“Draco.”
Malfoy kissed him, and it was life altering,, and Harry knew he would never be able to go back to the boy he’d been before. After all, he was twenty-something.
Malfoy kissed him and kissed him, his arm around Harry’s waist, Harry tipped way back, like that girl and that sailor in that black and white picture of the soldiers returning from war, only then gravity decided to be a bastard, and they both fell, Malfoy on top of Harry. Which was fine, because they were already naked, and this was actually a very nice position for a good, old-fashioned frot. Thankfully, Harry could cast a wandless lubrication spell.
Malfoy thought that was extremely hot, being a slut for wandless magic, as he was.
When Ron and Hermione returned with Luna from the burial mound, Luna was possessed by the spirit of a centuries- old Druid. But Ron was super weirded out by Harry frotting with Malfoy.
Hermione, however, only chuckled and said, “I knew it. And by the way, Draco and I have secretly been friends for the last four years. I bet you didn’t know that.”
“Er, no,” Harry siad. “I didn’t.
“Yup. He’s really smart. Almost as smart as me.”
“But not quite,” Malfoy groaned, as he came.
“No, not quite,” Hermione said with a fond smile.
“I love this man,” said Harry.
“And I love you, Potter,” Malfoy said.
“And I love your bum,” Harry said, pinching it.
“Ew,” said Ron. “Get a fuckin’ room.”
Author:
kbrickI am of legal drinking age in my region:yes
Pairing(s)/Characters/Fandom: Drarry/ HP
Challenge/Prompts used:harvest festival
Summary:Luna talks Harry into going to a Samhain festival
Rating/Warnings: E / it's not as sexy as it should be my bad
Word count: 2213
Author's Notes (if any): none
“So, it’s a Halloween party,” Harry said, settling his chin on his hand. He was at a coffee shop with Luna, the one where they always met, even though the coffee was complete shit and the tables were weirdly sticky. She liked the tabby cat that lounged around on the window ledge, and also the tattooed witch who owned the shop. Harry couldn’t quite figure out the nature of that relationship; with Luna, it was nearly impossible to tell the difference between her lovers and her friends. She and the other witch might just get together to do tarot readings and call on the spirits. Or they might fuck. Could go either way.
“No, no,” Luna said, nabbing the raisin bran muffin off his plate. He didn’t mind, because the muffins here tasted like sand. “It’s not Halloween. It’s Samhain.”
“Right, but that’s Halloween.”
“Absolutely not,” Luna said, looking as irritated as he’d ever seen her, which was mildly. Although she might have been making that face because the muffin was so awful. “Halloween is a little baby holiday, Harry. It’s a teeny newborn baby that still wears nappies. Samhain is one of the oldest holidays in the world. It’s a threshold festival.”
“Threshold?” Harry asked.
“When the veils between the worlds are thinnest,” Luna said, her blue eyes impossibly big and ghostly pale. “When the barrier between the living and the dead ceases to exist for a single evening. When spirits roam the earth, and –”
“But can I wear my costume?” Harry wanted to know. This was of utmost importance, because he had a really cool costume this year.
“No.”
“But then what’s the point?” he said, throwing his hands up in the air.
“Lots of anonymous sex,” she said. “Also blood sacrifices..”
“Blood what? And okay, yes, I’ll go.”
Thank Merlin, Ron and Hermione agreed to go to the bloody festival. Harry was afraid to go with just Luna, honestly. She was likely going to be throwing herself into one of the open tombs (Apparently they were going to be opening tombs? Or something? The details were fuzzy.) and then Harry’d be all alone with the weird Samhain celebrants with whom he was to have anonymous sex. And he was almost positive the anonymous sex wouldn’t come until later in the night, which meant he’d have to make conversation with these people first. No thank you very much.
Harry threw one last, longing look at his Oops-I-Did-It-Again-Britney-Spears costume, which he was not allowed to wear, and promised it silently that he’d put it on next year, when he went to a normal Halloween party. Then he flooed over to Ron’s and made Ron put away his Slave-4-U-Britney-Spears costume, while Hermione huffed and said I told him no costumes but he doesn’t listen!
“We should drink first, right?” Ron asked. “I think we should drink first.”
“Obviously,” Harry said.
“I think it might be more fun if we do,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “I think this party might be a little…you know. Luna-y.”
“Right,” said Harry, and poured them all shots of vodka.
A few drinks later, and they were apparating to the coordinates Luna’d given him. After a sickening lurch and a nauseating twist, they found themselves in a wide-open pasture, rogue sheep huddled near a fence post, baa-ing indignantly at the newcomers..Harry could hear voices and the beat of drums coming from beyond a nearby hill.
“Well, come on then,” Hermione said, setting off towards the sound after grabbing Ron and Harry’s arms.
Once they crested the hill, Harry saw the drums. The drums were being played by men in loincloths. It seemed much too cold to be wearing a loincloth, but mostly Harry was mad that he wasn’t allowed to wear his Oops-I-Did-It-Again Britney Spears costume. Because why were loincloths okay while naughty schoolgirl ensembles were verboten? Absolute shite, that.
“Sexist fucks,” Harry muttered darkly.
“Always,” said Hermione, nodding.
Really, Harry thought, as he glanced around at the people illuminated by bonfires, he and Ron and Hermione had more clothes on than anybody.
“Hi!’ came a voice from behind, and then Luna jumped on Harry’s back like a little naked spider monkey. “You came!”
“You didn’t think I was going to come?” Harry asked, peeling her off.
“No, I knew you would. Once I mentioned the orgies.”
“What?” said Hermione.
“Nice,” said Ron.
“Here,” said Luna, offering Harry a goblet.
Harry took a few gulps, and then passed it to Ron..
He opened his mouth to say something, but forgot what it was, because suddenly, he was so hot he could hardly stand it. “Holy fuck, why is it so hot?” he asked.
Luna smiled serenely at him.
“Oi!” cried Ron. “It’s hot as tits!” He started to peel off his jumper. Harry decided that was a good idea and started peeling off his jumper.
“It’s toasty,” said Hermione, fanning herself.
“Uh huh,” said Luna. “No need for that coat.”
“Right,” said Hermione, shucking it off.
“Why’s it so hot? It’s practically winter,” Harry said, unbuckling his belt.
Luna laughed. “Because it’s Samhain.”
“That’s not an answer,” Harry said.
Luna kicked his bare arse with her bare foot.
Everyone around the bonfire was in various stages of undress, and the drums seemed to be beating in time to Harry’s heart.
“This is how the orgies start? With the dancing?” Ron asked, looking around.
“Ronald,” said Hermione sternly, and then ruined it by giggling.
“Come on!” Luna said, pulling at Hermione’s hand. And then the two of them were jumping into the line of dancers by the fire.
Ron looked at Harry. Harry looked at Ron. “I can see your weenus,” said Ron.
“Don’t look at my weenus!” cried Harry, covering up. “And why are we calling it a weenus? That’s fucking dumb!”
“Godric, I’m so hot. Why’s it so hot?”
“Because Luna poisoned us,” Harry said.
“Yeah. Right. Harry, I can see your wang.”
After drinking more of the mysterious sweat-inducing beverage, Harry decided that it didn’t just make him hot. It also made him drunk. Luna said they were opening up the burial mound on the other side of the hill, but Harry wasn’t really into that. “I think I’ll hang out by the bonfire.”
“And the naked people,” said Ron.
“Ronald!” Hermione scolded, and then started giggling. “And let me remind you that you are one of the naked people.”
“I know,” Ron said, and waggled his wang.
“Nobody needs to see that, Weasel,” came a clipped and wankerish voice from behind Harry. He whirled and nearly fell over at the sight of that familiar, pointy face.
“Malfoy,” he said.
“Hello, Potter,” Malfoy said, looking over Harry with one judgmental eyebrow raised. “Nice dong.”
“Why is everyone looking at my dong? For fuck’s sake, there are other dongs to look at. Stop looking at mine!”
“Well, I don’t want to look at Weasley’s,” Malfoy said, lip curled. “Ew.”
“Excuse you,” Ron said. “I have a very nice –”
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, come on Ron. We’re going with Luna to the burial mound.”
“Ugh, why?” Ron whined. “I want to stay here!”
“Because it is interesting!” said Hermione.
“We’re going to be calling on the spirits,” Luna said. “Also there are orgies down there.”
“Okay, fine,” Ron said, huffing. “I guess I’ll come.””
“Heh, yeah you will,” Harry said as they left.
“What are you, twelve?” Malfoy sneered..
“No, I am not. I am Twenty-something, the same age as you, you pillock.”
“Prove it!” Malfoy said, his eyes narrowing.
“Prove that I’m twenty-something? How exactly do you expect me to do that?”
“Show me your drivers’ license. Or have sex with me,” said Malfoy.
“Er, what?” said Harry, because he had to say er at least once in every conversation or else. It was like saying Candyman into the mirror three times. Who even knew WHAT would happen.
“You heard me,” Malfoy said. And fuck, he was hot. Harry had noticed, sure, back in the locker room at Hogwarts. The Quidditch locker room that was never featured in canon because of all the illicit things that happened there. Not suitable for a young adult series, if you know what I mean. But listen, there was sex. In those locker rooms by the Quidditch pitch. Lots of sex. Oodles. But not with Harry and Malfoy, although Harry had managed to catch a peek at Malfoy’s bum. Probably. Of course he had. It was Malfoy, for Christ’s sake. He could be up to something and it was up to Harry to monitor his bum. For reasons.
ANYWAY, Malfoy had always been very lithe and sexy and like, sort of milky, undead, wasting-away-Plague-victim pale, but in a hot way. Like a sexy pale ghost. And his bum was the sort of bum you could bounce a galleon off of. Very perky, his bum. Harry had thought a time or two about biting it.
But it seemed like he’d gotten hotter since the last time Harry’d seen him. Like he’d filled out a little, and was that a sexy tattoo on his forearm? Or no, wait. That was the Dark Mark.
Meh. Bygones.
There were more important things to think about now, like his bum. Also his dingaling, because Malfoy was hung like a bloody horse.
“Neigh,” said Harry.
“Huh?” said Malfoy.
“Nothing,” said Harry. “Is it hot?”
“I dunno, Potter,” said Malfoy throatily, stepping closer. “Is it?”
“Er, what?” said Harry.
“I like your outfit,” said Malfoy.
“But I’m naked,” said Harry.
“Exactly,” said Malfoy. “If you had clothes on, they’d be hideous. Luckily, you don’t.”
“Listen, not all of us are posh wankers who wear bespoke suits to Tesco,” Harry said.
“As if I would go to Tesco,” Malfoy said. “That’s what servants are for.”
“Sweet Christ on a Cracker, you are so loathsome, and yet I want to suck your cock,” Harry said.
“Obviously, it’s enormous. And I’m not actually loathsome anymore, Potter. I’ve changed. I opened up seventeen orphanages and I donate all of my income to a crup rescue organization. And also I adopted Teddy. And I don’t actually have servants, I was just kidding. I live in a one room apartment and cook all my own meals.”
Harry hummed and set his mouth close to Malfoy’s ear. “That’s hot. ARe you actually down and out Draco? Or are you reclusive, wealthy, but redeemed Draco? You’re being confusing.”
“I’m neither,” Malfoy groaned. “I’m promiscuous playboy Draco. Rawr. But luckily for you, I’m not engaged to Astoria. So this will be relatively easy.”
“Easy as in?”
“Easy as in I will fuck your brains out and you will become absolutely obsessed with me. More obsessed, anyway. You’re already pretty obsessed.”
“Yes, I am,” said Harry. “Have I told you how much I like your bum?”
“No, but listen. My bum is neither here nor there. Look at this shlong, Potter. I’m obviously top Draco.”
“That doesn’t work for me,” Harry said, hanging his head regretfully. “I’m top Harry.”
“Hm. Okay.. We could…frot? I’m always up for some high-quality frottage.”
“Yes, oh yes, please! That would be lovely.” Harry looked into Malfoy’s smoky grey orbs and realized he loved him. Like a lot.
“You have the most beautiful orbs.”
“No, no. Your orbs are the most beautiful,” Malfoy said. Now kiss me with your pillowy lips.”
“Hold on, let me take off my glasses.”
Malfoy screamed.
“What!” Harry cried, nearly expiring from the shock.
“Your eyes are so beautiful without your glasses. Your lashes are so long. Your face, so perfect.” Malfoy traced his scar with one finger.
“Malfoy?”
“Yes, Harry?”
“You called me Harry,” Harry said, his eyes welling up with tears.
Malfoy smirked, and it wasn’t even an appropriate time for a smirk. “Say it,” he said.
“Draco.”
Malfoy kissed him, and it was life altering,, and Harry knew he would never be able to go back to the boy he’d been before. After all, he was twenty-something.
Malfoy kissed him and kissed him, his arm around Harry’s waist, Harry tipped way back, like that girl and that sailor in that black and white picture of the soldiers returning from war, only then gravity decided to be a bastard, and they both fell, Malfoy on top of Harry. Which was fine, because they were already naked, and this was actually a very nice position for a good, old-fashioned frot. Thankfully, Harry could cast a wandless lubrication spell.
Malfoy thought that was extremely hot, being a slut for wandless magic, as he was.
When Ron and Hermione returned with Luna from the burial mound, Luna was possessed by the spirit of a centuries- old Druid. But Ron was super weirded out by Harry frotting with Malfoy.
Hermione, however, only chuckled and said, “I knew it. And by the way, Draco and I have secretly been friends for the last four years. I bet you didn’t know that.”
“Er, no,” Harry siad. “I didn’t.
“Yup. He’s really smart. Almost as smart as me.”
“But not quite,” Malfoy groaned, as he came.
“No, not quite,” Hermione said with a fond smile.
“I love this man,” said Harry.
“And I love you, Potter,” Malfoy said.
“And I love your bum,” Harry said, pinching it.
“Ew,” said Ron. “Get a fuckin’ room.”