|Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven,|
@ 2010-01-07 17:24:00
|Entry tags:||hp fic daily_deviant, hp fic draco/???|
HP fic: Gie's a Hand o' Thine [Draco/???, adult]
Title: Gie's a Hand o' Thine
Pairing: Highlight for pairing spoiler: _____Harry/Draco_____; various Slytherins, Hogwarts staff, and other students make appearances
Warnings: anonymous sex, hints of D/s
Summary: The newly instituted Hogwarts New Year's Ball includes costume prizes, and Draco knows exactly what his costume will be.
Note: Originally posted in the daily_deviant as a 2009 Kinky Kristmas gift for elfflame. The title is from one of the lesser-known verses of Robert Burns' "Auld Lang Syne."
"It's a ridiculous idea," sniffed Pansy.
"Oh, I don't know. The Headmistress might have set it up to encourage 'inter-House amity'," Daphne mimicked McGonagall's voice perfectly, "but there's nothing that says we have to socialise with anyone from the other Houses."
"We'll all be in costume. It'll be impossible to tell who's who," Blaise pointed out in his usual languid tones.
"So? We can let each other know what we're dressing as," said Daphne. "Problem solved."
"But then no Slytherin will win the costume prize. Not the one for 'best costume' but the one for most effective disguise, fooling the most other students," Pansy said. "And if we all know each other, we might tie for the most guesses, and then it'll look like we cheated. Cheating is one thing, getting caught at it and looking like an idiot is something else."
Daphne shrugged. "Look, we have to at least pretend to be going along with the new order. That was the point of coming back for this extra year – a chance to officially wipe the slate clean with the Ministry. I don't know about you, but I don't fancy a decade of suspicion and surveillance, so I'm going to this New Year's Ball."
There was some grumbling, but eventually the other Slytherin eighth-years agreed to attend also, and suffer the chance that they might inadvertently end up dancing or chatting with a Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. Ravenclaws weren't quite so beyond the pale as the other two Houses.
Draco had listened to the discussion without bothering to take part. He had already decided that he would go to the Ball, regardless. It wasn't just his own future at stake; his parents' lives would be affected by his behaviour as well. When Pansy tried to tease him into hinting what costume he'd wear, though, he brushed her off.
"Everyone agreed to keep it a secret, so we Slytherins have a reasonable chance at winning that prize for most effective costume, as well as the other prizes."
Pansy pouted. "I promise I won't tell."
"Lay off," said Draco. He turned on his heel and left the common room, leaving her staring after him in annoyance. She probably thought that he'd partner her at the dance, as he'd done for the Yule Ball in fourth year, but there was no chance of that. Draco was still loyal to his family, but he'd had enough of acting just to please them, and he had no intention of dating girls any longer.
His choice of costume was easy. As a child, his mother had called him her "little angel", and Draco simply went with that. Judicious Transfiguration created a suitable costume, turning a school robe and scarf into an angel's robe and feathery wings. A House tie became a halo, and his book satchel a harp.
Harder than the costume itself was finding a way to disguise his face. Polyjuice Potion was out of the question – he didn't have time to make it, and anyway the idea of having to drink a slug of the horrible-tasting stuff every hour at the party made him nauseous.
Finally Draco decided to use charms on his hair to lengthen and curl it; the blond colour was already suitable, but he added gold dust to give it an extra gleam and a somewhat different look. Not that many students were as fair as he was. He'd pinched a couple of fashion magazines that one of the girls had left lying around, and followed the tips on the beauty pages to paint his face, altering its apparent contours with blush and highlighter and more gold dust, until he was fairly certain that even his own mother might have a hard time recognising him. He cast one final spell to disguise his voice, and he was ready.
Negotiating with roommates to insure privacy during the costuming phase was up to each student, but to help them preserve their anonymity for the contest, Professor Flitwick had created Fog Charms that enveloped them in mist from the time they had finished dressing until they reached the party. Draco invoked his, and made his way up to the Great Hall.
There were already several dozen students there, mostly hovering around the punch bowl although a few were dancing. The Weird Sisters were supposed to play later, but at the moment the music was coming from an ancient gramophone: an old Hobgoblins tune, though a dance-able one, and Draco suddenly found that he was in a dancing mood.
He looked around to see if there was any likely partner. One benefit to his choice of costume was that no one could easily tell if he was a boy or a girl; even his height could have been faked to deceive the costume-guessers. So he could dance with another bloke, as he'd prefer, without necessarily giving himself away. If he could tell the other person was a boy, that is.
The youngest students were out, of course. Draco could identify them by their lack of costuming skills. The mermaid whose scales looked more like cardboard, dancing with the boy dressed as a Wimbourne Wasp – she was Rosetta Bixby, a Slytherin second-year, Draco was certain.
A flash of red caught his attention, and his eyebrows went up. Now there was a possibility – someone dressed as the devil, in the old-fashioned way, with goat horns and a massive phallus. He seriously doubted that any girl was likely to choose that costume. Licking his lips, Draco strolled in that direction.
"Care to dance?" The devil stepped out in front of him.
Draco listened hard, but didn't recognise the voice. Probably an older student, then, who'd done as Draco had and disguised his voice as well as his appearance.
"We seem to be well-matched," he acknowledged casually. "Why not?"
The music was a slower tune, now, and they made careful conversation, each trying ensure he said nothing that could identify him. The devil was not the best of dancers, but Draco didn't mind; the slow music meant that they could touch, even press against each other, and he was fairly certain that behind the phony phallus there was a real one, equally erect.
It was too early in the evening to settle on one partner, but after a couple of songs, the devil said, "Maybe another dance later?"
"Good. I'll look for you." The devil smiled, and Draco felt a surge of temptation to sneak away right then... but this early they would be conspicuous by their absence. Later, when everyone in the school was there, it would be different.
He circulated for a while, dancing occasionally, but also evaluating the costumes and listening carefully as people spoke, doing his best to identify people.
At one end of the refreshment table was a pile of quills and a stack of parchment sheets with every student's name listed, plus a blank space to guess their costumes. The time for guessing ended at eleven o'clock, so that the answers could be tabulated and the prizes given just after midnight. Draco was fairly certain he wouldn't win, but he filled out one of the sheets anyhow, writing his name at the bottom with a flourish to cover his lack of confidence. He had to identify his own costume there too.
He had just handed the sheet to Professor Sprout, who was collecting them, when the devil spoke from behind him.
Draco turned. "Hello."
"I was going to ask if you wanted to dance, but this music's a little too fast for me." The devil cocked his head. "Would you like to find somewhere more private, for a bit? There's over an hour till midnight still."
The gleam in his eyes was unmistakable. Draco took a breath and rose to the challenge.
He followed the devil out, along the corridor towards the boys' loo, then past it, around a corner and into an empty classroom.
"Costumes stay on," the devil said, and Draco nodded. It didn't really matter at this point since he'd already submitted his guesses, but actually the idea of not knowing the identity of the other boy was rather a turn-on.
The devil's lips were warm, and so were his hands as they slid along Draco's chest, unfastening his angel-robes. Draco caught back a gasp as his nipples were exposed to the cool air, then twisted and pinched.
"You are a devil," he murmured, and the other boy chuckled.
"And you like that, don't you?" He palmed Draco's erection through the fabric. "Oh yeah, you really do."
"Mm hm." Draco licked a stripe down the devil's neck. At the hollow of the collarbone, he fastened his mouth, sucking hot blood to the surface of the skin, leaving a mark behind.
"Feisty for an angel." The devil pinched Draco's nipples again, and scraped skin with his fingernails. Draco could hear his breathing quicken. "Fucking hot, that sexless angel look and behind it so much passion."
Draco reached for the devil's false phallus. "I assume you're not really as big as this suggests?"
"Hell no." The devil laughed. "Couldn't walk if I were."
"Good, because I wouldn't let you fuck me if you were," said Draco.
The devil pulled away, his eyes searching Draco's face. "You want me to fuck you?"
"Yeah." He'd done it before, a few times, and right now his arse ached to be filled. "If you want."
"I want," said the devil softly. "Be careful how you tempt me."
"No temptation. An offer." Draco had found the real cock beneath the costume, hard and throbbing, and stroked it. "Don't you want to debauch an angel?"
"Like you wouldn't believe." The devil leaned in again and kissed Draco hard, ravaging his mouth and leaving him breathless, almost bonelessly pliant in the devil's arms. Pulling out his wand from somewhere in his trousers, the devil cast a locking charm on the classroom door. "I know a good lube spell... unless you want to do it yourself?"
"No, you can," Draco said. A moment later his arse was warm and slick and stretched. "Um. That's good, all right."
"Against the desk then, angel. Pull up your robes and bend over."
Draco obeyed, his cock cushioned by the bunched-up fabric from being squashed too hard against the scarred wood of the big desk.
Without further ceremony, the devil was behind him, smacking his arse cheeks as if to test their firmness, then – oh fuck yes – there was heat and pressure and a thick cock sliding into him in one long slow push. The devil paused.
"You want it hard, don't you."
It wasn't really a question, but Draco answered anyway, begging the devil to move, to fuck him, babbling about how good it felt to be taken like this.
The devil's cock withdrew, penetrated again, and again, and again, his bollocks slapping against Draco's skin with each thrust. Draco let himself sprawl forward. The rhythmic movement rubbed his own cock against his robes, and he imagined what they must look like, he prone with his wings spread out, the devil behind him, fucking him fast and furious now.
"Please, fuck, yes," he heard himself saying. The heat was building up in his belly and his cock and his arse, rising inexorably toward the eruption of orgasm.
"Gonna... come... now..." the devil chanted, and clutched at Draco's hips with a groan, his motions stilling.
Draco bucked up, frantic. He reached for his own cock but the devil's hand was there first, pumping him. It took only a few strokes before Draco's spunk was pulsing out into his robes, leaving him sticky and spent.
The devil sighed and pulled away. Liquid dribbled down Draco's thighs, and he fumbled to find his wand to Banish the mess. "We'd better get back before we're missed," he said regretfully.
"Yeah." The devil hesitated a moment. "Happy New Year, angel."
"Happy New Year, devil. You go on. I'll wait a couple of minutes – more discreet that way."
The devil nodded and slipped out. Draco used the time to spell the wrinkles out of his costume; when he was satisfied with that, he ducked into the boys' loo and checked on his makeup. It had smudged a bit, not surprisingly, so he did the best he could to restore it before returning to the Great Hall.
He took a cup of punch and drank thirstily. The devil was dancing with a fake centaur on the far side of the room. Draco turned down an offer to dance from a witch dressed as a – grossly oversized – pixie, preferring to watch the crowd. It was not long till midnight now, and after that, the costume prizes would be given out and the party would be over.
"Five... four... three... two... one... midnight!" Draco chanted along with everyone else. The Weird Sisters' drummer rattled his cymbals loudly as midnight struck, and the air was suddenly filled with confetti.
As the noise died down, Headmistress McGonagall called for everyone's attention.
"Students. Professors Vector and Sinistra have tallied up the answers to the costume guessing game, and Professors Flitwick, Sprout, and Firenze have chosen a winner for the most remarkable costume. Filius, if you will?"
Professor Flitwick clambered up on the table. "We feel that the most remarkable costume was the group effort by four students, who dressed as the founders of Hogwarts. Will the students who portrayed Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin please step forward and reveal yourselves?"
Draco half-expected that Harry Potter would have played Godric Gryffindor, but instead Neville Longbottom's round face, pink with excitement and punch, emerged from that costume. Even more to Draco's surprise, Theodore Nott had dressed as Salazar Slytherin. Morag McDougal was Rowena Ravenclaw, and Hannah Abbott was Helga Hufflepuff. He applauded dutifully along with the rest of the students as the four went up to receive their prizes: a cup with all their names on it that would go in the Trophy Room, and fifteen Galleons apiece.
"Now, the winners of the costume guessing game," said Professor Vector. "First, the prize for the most right answers goes to Luna Lovegood, who correctly guessed seventy-eight of you. Luna wins fifteen Galleons also."
Again Draco applauded, though he was bored by now and ready for the party to be over.
"For the other part of the game, we have a tie – two students proved equally difficult for their fellows to guess, with only four people guessing each one correctly. Will our angel and devil please come to claim their prizes?"
Draco blinked. He had put in a fair effort on his costume, true, but he had never expected to deceive so many people effectively. He pushed forward up to the table, and allowed Professor Sinistra to spell away his makeup. Next to him the devil was having the same done by Professor Vector. Draco looked over, curious to find out just who it was who had made this such a memorable party for him.
"Potter!" "Malfoy!" They spoke at the same time. Draco wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry at the revelation that the devil who'd given him the best fuck he'd ever had was none other than Saint Potter. Judging from the look on Potter's face, he was equally taken aback.
"Congratulations, boys," Headmistress McGonagall broke into their staring. "Happy New Year."
Taking a deep breath, Draco said, "Happy New Year, Harry," and put out his hand.
Harry shook it. "Happy New Year, Draco."