#so it's not uncommon to poke into his tent early in the morning to see him sleeping with little lights on his chest and his cot

[gryffvndors]

uncommon alliances: part three

summary: you take advantage of the fact that pansy literally doesn’t care about house security, and decide to sleep in the slytherin common room with daphne and draco. also, the hogsmeade four has a lengthy discussion about dicks.

word count: ~3900

a/n: hi guys im back from the dead w another part of this series that has, essentially, no plot bc don’t we all love pwp! (; potter without plot!! what did u think i meant??? anyway there’s a discussion about dicks in here so if u dont wanna read that, it’s near the end, just ctrl+f “upside-down” and u’ll skip it, it’s just for a laughhhh

part zero  part one  part two

“It is far too early for this,” you mumble, eyelids fluttering. The option of settling back into the black leather sofa you’re sinking into and shutting your eyes to drift off is far too appealing - next to you, Daphne pokes you in the ribs, snorting when you let out a hysterical giggle. She pulls her knees up to her chest and rests her forehead on them, body shaking with laughter. Your eyes are too heavy, world too incoherent to join in and make fun of yourself, so instead, you just sigh and lean forward to grab your mug of tea.

“Stop laughing at me, Daph, ‘m tired ‘nd I didn’t mean to,” you whine softly, hands wrapped around the mug. You bring it up to your lips and sip at it. The hot liquid - scalding liquid, Merlin’s fucking pants, that is burning your tongue right off- “Fuck, tha’ ih ho’-!”

Daphne raises her head and takes in the image of you coughing and letting the tea dribble back into the mug, then bursts into even louder, more violent laughter. “Y-you look s-so-” she chokes out in between gulps of air a minute later, “that is g-gross, oh my goodness-”

Scowling at the tea, you set the mug back on the table and huff. “Well, I’m awake now,” you mutter, scowling. Your friend wraps her delicate arms around your body and squeezes, her blonde ponytail hanging in your face. You relax, hugging Daphne back. When she pulls away, her pretty face is split in half by a huge grin; Daphne rests her head on your shoulder and stretches her legs out so her socked feet are crossed at the ankles on the table, right next to your tea. Behind you, you hear the distant sound of feet thumping on stairs. A familiar scoff greets you in lieu of a hello, and you have to fight not to break out in a smile. It’s crazy how you know who it is just by the sound of his annoyed exhales, but you decide not to think about it, or else, in your half-asleep state, you might become too sappy and scare him away. You’ve never seen sleepy Draco - that would be too vulnerable of him, and Draco doesn’t do vulnerable - but you can imagine that he wouldn’t be sappy or clingy. You, on the contrary, are very huggy when you’re sleepy, hence the fact that you and Daphne are practically cuddling in the Slytherin common room.

Draco shuffles around to stand in front of you, arms crossed and lips puckered in a confused sort of pout. “What… are you doing here,” he asks. “This is the Slytherin common room. Stop cuddling with Daphne and go back to the trash you call living quarters.”

The corners of your mouth spread into a slow, lazy smirk. “Oh, but Draco-” you pat the seat next to you, the one connected to the arm of the couch. “Come cuddle with us. It’s so cold in here, and we’re so lonely. We’re all alone.”

Daphne nods in agreement. She pats the back of your hand and murmurs, “Come on, Draco, we’re lonely.”

“You have each other. You aren’t lonely,” Draco says, but inches forward a little. He glances at the seat, then to you and Daphne, then back to the seat again.

“Why did you even come down here if you didn’t want to cuddle with us?”

He rolls his eyes and retorts, “I was going back to my dorm from the bathroom and I thought I heard your annoying laugh. The one you do when somebody pokes you in your side. I wanted to see if you were actually here so I could tell you to go away. Why are you here, anyway?”

Your smirks grows wider as you say, “Come join us and I’ll fill you in.”

After a staring contest between you two (which is filled with Daphne’s quiet giggles), Draco huffs out a, “…Fine. But only because I’m curious, and not because I want to cuddle with you.”

“Mmm. Sure. Come on…” You untangle one arm from Daphne and hold it out to him. Draco tentatively takes a seat, sighing when you snuggle into his side without restraint. He begrudgingly wraps an arm around you. Daphne doesn’t unattach herself, so it soon becomes a train of cuddling. The prospect makes you giggle into Draco’s chest. He tucks his legs underneath him and glances down at you, blushing and looking away when he sees you already staring at him.

“So,” he clears his throat, gaze trained on the floor, “why is a Gryffindor like you in the Slytherin common room at… five in the morning on a Saturday?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you slur. You slide down so your head is resting in his lap. Draco stiffens and, for a second, you think he’s going to push you off. Instead, he runs his fingers through your hair. Surprised (and a bit overjoyed), you shut your eyes and relish in the feeling of the boy you like playing with your hair, joined by the presence of one of your best friends. For a few minutes, the three of you engage in tired, slurred conversation that has much to do with nothing. Daphne murmurs something about wanting a necklace from a jewelry store at Hogsmeade. At the mention of the town, you announce that you’ve been searching for a book on Quidditch Beaters that they don’t have stocked in the library, and you hope it’s at one of the bookstores there. Draco mutters his wish for firewhiskey. You only get to hear half of his sentence, because by the end of it, your mind has drifted off to a warm, comfortable sleep.

“Malfoy, Greengrass - why is Weasley here?”

You open one eye. Before you stands one of the Slytherin Prefects, Zoey Cross, a seventh year, with one eyebrow raised and an unimpressed expression on her face. You remember a couple years ago, when the older twins went to school, Fred dated her for a couple months. They were pretty serious, too. Something happened between her and another guy and they broke it off, but after, you’d noticed them pining from afar. When you told Fred, he said he didn’t want to talk about it.

“She couldn’t sleep,” Draco responds softly. “Don’t wake her up, she hasn’t been sleeping well.”

You quickly shut your eye so Zoey doesn’t see you. From the tinge of amusement in her voice when she replies, she’s already noticed your consciousness. “Right…” Zoey muses. “Well, there’s no use in kicking her out if she just comes back inside. Her Weasley genes make her prone to that sort of behavior. Stop telling her the password.”

You snort, chomping on your lip to restrain the smirk that threatens to spill past your lips. “But you told Fred the password,” you crumble and finally mumble, snickering. “And you knew the Gryffindor password.” You open both of your eyes, then, automatically meeting Zoey’s cinnamon brown eyes. She narrows them, sending you A Look. You respond by sending you one of her own. “Checkmate, Cross.”

“Fred and I were in a committed, monogamous, public relationship,” Zoey purses her lips. “And you? Who are you currently in a committed, monogamous, public relationship with in Slytherin? Certainly not Greengrass, what with her relationship with Hemmings-”

“I am not dating Kit Hemmings, Cross-”

“Daphne,” groans Draco. “Hemmings, of all the people? He’s such as ass-”

“Oh, rich, coming from you, Daddy’s Boy-”

“Can it, sister, I caught you two snogging in the boys’ dormitory the other night. And shut up, Malfoy, you’re the biggest prick of the entire Slytherin house. And don’t pull that He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named bullshit, you know I’m talking about modern years. Anyway, we’re waiting, Weasley.”

Your leer melts into a frown. You sit up; Daphne scoots aside so you can fit in between her and a tense, pouting Draco. From Zoey’s triumphant power stance, she knows she hit a nerve. ‘Stupid Slytherins,’ you think, huffing. It’s like they can read minds, or something. It’s like they can sniff your insecurities and manipulate them.

Before you can spit out a, “Nobody,” through clenched teeth, Draco takes a deep breath and mumbles, “Me.”

You, Daphne, and Zoey, in unison, say, “What.” and gape at him.

Daphne recovers first, snapping her fingers and pointing at the Prefect. “See! She has permission from her boyfriend!” The word makes you and Draco flinch. Daphne rages on excitedly. “So she can be in here! Because you let her brother in here when you dated him! I remember, you know, you two would always snog in that armchair over there and I’d have to stop Astoria from staring. She stares a lot-”

“Okay, okay,” Zoey holds her hands up in surrender. “I’ll back off. But, since Ethan’ll hound me if I don’t, I’m taking one point from Gryffindor every time I catch you in here after today.”

You snap out of your shock enough to nod and force out a, “Gryffindor loses so many points a week, it’ll hardly matter.”

She laughs, “I guess you’re right… I’ll leave you to it, then. Oh, and Weasley-” you raise an eyebrow. “If you’re wanting breakfast, I’d suggest you go down there now, before your brother eats all of it. Last I saw, he was on his third plate.”

Rolling your eyes and mumbling something under your breath, you slide off the couch. Draco snorts, getting up and helping Daphne to her feet. “She’s not much better,” he mumbles, making you turn around and slap his arm. “Don’t slap me, you imbecile, you know it’s true!”

“Doesn’t mean you have to say it, Draco!”

Zoey glances between you two and rolls her eyes. “I’m going upstairs. Weasley, remember what I said.”

As she ascends up the stairs, you call, “You should owl Fred sometime. He misses you.”

“I’ll… take that into consideration.” She turns and flashes you a small smile. “…Thanks.”

The three of you watch her vanish into the girls’ dormitory. As soon as she’s gone, you point an accusing finger to your friend. “You didn’t tell me about Hemmings!”

Daphne groans and covers her face with her hands. She shakes her head, blonde hair whipping around to hit Draco in the face. You try to suppress a laugh; instead, it comes out as a rather strangled noise deep in your throat like you’re being throttled. “I’ll tell you later with the rest of the girls, okay? At Hogsmeade. I promise!” She leans forward to grab your crossed arms, dark green eyes boring intensely into yours. Sighing, you shrug. “Thank you for not being upset with me! I wanted to say something to everyone at once! Okay, well, I’m going to leave you two alone and go down to the Great Hall.” As she skips to the exit, she spins and does a weird backwards skip/jog thing that nearly makes her trip. After she recovers, she points at you with both hands. “Noon! Bye, Draco!”

Daphne leaves the common room in her pajamas, which you let her go in just because you’re too lazy to say anything about it. And then there were two. You stand about a foot away from him, too aware of the awkward silence between you two. The tension is so thick, you could cut it with a knife. You purse your lips and raise your gaze to meet Draco’s.

“So…” you begin, shifting weight between your feet. You should just go on and say it. Neither of you are getting any younger here, and you’re not one for unnecessary tension; quite on the contrary, you prefer to just get everything out in the open. “Boyfriend?”

He takes a sudden interest in the fireplace. Clearing his throat, Draco shoves his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants and shrugs. “Is that okay?”

“Uh - yeah! Yeah, it’s fine with me. Just a little�� surprising, is all. Um, public? We’re public now?”

“Well, Daphne seemed to already know about it. If she knows, then Pansy and Millicent do, as well. It was just a matter of time,” Draco pauses. “How do you think Weasel will react?” If you didn’t think the idea so insane, you’d reckon Draco actually looks nervous. Or something of the sort.

“Badly,” you admit, shrugging. “But I don’t care. It isn’t his relationship, it’s mine. He has no business in my relationships. He tried it with Ginny and Dean earlier in the year - we both put an end to that.” Smirking, you remember the Dean Era. You can’t recall whether or not Michael was before or after - Harry’s definitely here to stay for a while, which is something you couldn’t be happier about.

Draco is saying something when you snap out of your thoughts. You see him stroll to the staircase to the boys’ dormitory - you call after him, throwing your hands in the air. “Where are you going?” Draco raises a brow. “I’m getting dressed. Were you not listening to me while I was speaking?”

“Uh, no.”

He rolls his eyes, then turns back to the stairs. “That is your loss, not mine. You should get changed, too. I’ll see you later in Hogsmeade, okay?”

You mumble, “Yeah, fine, whatever,” and head for the common room entrance. On your way, you pass Crabbe and Goyle - instead of sending them a huge grin, like you do Blaise and Theo, you merely nod to them. You’re not quite there with them yet.

“Where have you been?” Questions Ron immediately as you step through the Fat Lady’s portrait. He rises from the armchair that faces the Gryffindor common room exit; you pass him, nudging his shoulder with your hand on your way to the girls’ dormitory. “You’re wearing the same clothes you were yesterday! Is my little sister doing the Walk of Shame?!”

“Twins,” you remind him with a smile. “We’re twins. One minute doesn’t count. And I just crashed with a few friends, nothing to worry about. I’m fine. I didn’t sleep with anyone, not that it is any of your business even if I did.”

“What? You don’t have any friends. You have - you have us! Me, ‘Mione, Harry, and Ginny!” A moments hesitation, then, “Were you with Luna?”

“Ron! I said it’s none of your business. I’m fine. Don’t go all overprotective of me. Trust me, I can hold my own. I’m going to get changed for Hogsmeade, maybe see if Ginny has any snacks. I’ll see you later-”

“Ah, right, wait-” Ron grabs something off the table next to the armchair and jogs over to the bottom of the case; he eyes it warily. You snort, planting your hands on your hips and descending the necessary amount of steps to become eye-to-eye with him. “I noticed you weren’t at breakfast, thought you were ill. I brought you some food. It’s probably a little cold, but I don’t trust myself to do a Warming spell and not torch the thing.” Ron offers you the thing. It’s a plate of assorted breakfast food. You take it gingerly, a flood of familial affection washing through your body. It’s such a sweet, thoughtful gesture, you feel bad about being so adamant with him about your whereabouts. Of course, if you were him, you’d be worried, too.

You pull your brother in for a one-armed hug. He accepts it for a second and pulls away the next, ears red. “Thank you, Ron!” You beam into his blue eyes. You decide to add, “You’re the best twin older-brother-by-one-minute ever!”

“It’s nothing, I just thought you’d be hungry,” he mumbles, shuffling backwards. You let him inch away from the conversation. Instead of forcing him into more sibling bonding, you just go up to your dorms to get ready. Before eating the breakfast, you take out your wand and cast a light Warming spell. Then you proceed to burn your tongue on a forkful of eggs.

“Is his dick big, though?” Pansy sips at her butterbeer, nonchalant about the question she just imposed. “Like, Daph, I know you’re all, ‘size doesn’t matter’, but let’s be honest, ladies - it does. Size does matter.”

Daphne chokes on her treacle tart. When she stops dying, she grabs the nearest thing to her and chucks it across the table. It just so happens to be the bag of owl treats Millie bought for her owl - Daphne just nearly misses, Pansy ducking out of the way just in time. The bag sails over her head and lands behind your table. It bursts open and all the treats scatter amongst the floor. “Oh, shit-” Daphne jumps up, shouting an apology to Madame Rosmerta, who just rolls her eyes, a small smile on her face. “I’ve got it, Madame, really-”

Madame Rosmerta waves her off and takes out her wand. You turn back to the table, snickering as Millie scolds Daphne for wasting her owl treats. Madame Rosmerta hands the newly-mended bag back to Millie, nodding at Daphne’s gushing of ‘thank you, Madame, thank you - I’m so sorry-’. She, along with the entirety of the Three Broomsticks, ignores her shrieking when Millie attempts to hit Daphne over the head with the bag. You and Pansy step in. Pansy wrestles the bag away from an angry Millie while you protect a screeching Daphne.

“Give me back my owl treats, Parkinson-”

Pansy raises a perfect, dark eyebrow. “Uh, Bulstrode, you can get them back when we return to the common room. I won’t have you trying to kill Daph on my watch.” She flips her hair and smiles. “Anyway. What was I talking about?”

“Size does matter,” you offer, much to Daphne’s chagrin.

“Oh, right - yeah, size fucking matters, Daph.”

“No - Pansy, it’s all about personality. It doesn’t matter if he has a large penis, because if he has a large personality, then I am satisfied,” Daphne sits back in her seat, pleased with herself.

You lean over and stage-whisper to Pansy, “I think Hemmings has a small dick.”

“I’d wager he does, too,” Pansy stage-whispers back, maintaining solid eye contact with Daphne.

“No! Stop it, guys, it isn’t your dick, I don’t see why you care-”

“You’re not denying it, Daphne,” Millie cuts in. Her temper has calmed, and she’s back to first-name basis again. Good; having Millie angry is like… having Hermione angry with you. She’s sullen, stubborn, and a pain in the ass to be around. “If you’re not going to entertain us with Hemming’s dick, let’s talk about Draco’s.” Fuck. Nevermind, you want her to be sulky again. “How big is Draco’s dick?”

Pansy leans in, a laugh at the tip of her tongue. “Yeah, tell us. Give us the details.” After a moment, Pansy shakes her head. “Actually, I have to look at him in the eye. Don’t give us the details, but make a broad accusation, y’know?”

Shooting a wink at your blonde friend, you rest your chin on your fist and say, “Well, let me tell you girls, I think size does matter, and I am more than satisfied.” Grinning at Pansy’s shrieking laughs, you take a small sip from your mug and watch her and Millie viciously tease Daphne.

“See? Daph, even Draco has a big dick - and we all thought he was compensating! Sucks that Hemming’s is too small - maybe you should try someone else, like Po-”

Daphne, fuming, slams her fist on the table. Some butterbeer sloshes over the side of your mug, but you barely notice it in your violent giggling fit. “You know what?” She snaps. “I wasn’t going to tell you, because privacy, but I’ll have you know Kit does have a big dick. In fact, Kit has a huge cock. It’s the biggest I’ve ever seen. Nine inches,” she says the last bit proudly.

You, Pansy, and Millie all shout in unison, “Nine?!”

“Nine. Kit’s dick is nine inches long. So, yes, I am very satisfied. I get nine inch cock-”

“That’s very interesting, Daphne, but I’d rather not know the size of Kit Hemming’s dick. Or first-hand accounts of how he uses it. Or, quite honestly, his name gives me a migraine, so I’d prefer to not speak of him, at all, for the rest of my life,” Draco’s voice sounds above you. You crane your neck to look up. He’s smirking in Daphne’s direction. Draco leans down to give you a weird upside-down kiss that’s actually quite cute and endearing, and leaves even Pansy awwing. Pansy never aws. Pansy is a cold, emotionless snake who takes pleasure only in seeing other people’s discomfort. And, sometimes cute things, when she’s in the mood. It’s not often; the mood comes once in a blue moon.

You love Pansy.

Draco drops a book onto the table as he falls into the seat in between you and Pansy. You pick up the book. Scanning the title, your heart rate quickens with each letter until you’ve finished the cover page and your excitement is through the roof. “Draco!” You shriek, setting the book down and tackling him in a hug. “Merlin’s tits-”

“Nice one,” he says, sarcastic.

“-Thank you so much, holy shit! I’ve been looking for this forever! How did you find it?!”

Draco picks up your mug and drinks from it. He leans against the back of the chair and shrugs. “I’m a Malfoy. I can get whatever I want.”

“I thought you were, like, half-asleep when I talked about this?”

“I was listening to you. I don’t tune you out,” he scoffs.

It’s then that you remember that your friends are still here, and staring at you expectantly, waiting to be included. “Oh, right - Daph, you might remember this. It’s the book on Beaters and tips and biographies and tricks of world-famous Beaters that I’ve been looking for for ages.”

Millie wiggles her eyebrows at you and Draco. “And what is he getting in return for your book?”

Draco answers before you can, saying, “Peace and quiet, hopefully. I’m leaning towards not being mindlessly bothered by her every second of the day.”

The three girls change the subject after laughing, leaving you and Draco pretty much alone. You look up at him, smiling. He’s smiling, too; the corners of his mouth are slightly upturned. You can tell he’s trying to hold one back. “You keep getting things for me, and I don’t know what to give you.”

“I don’t need anything,” he says quickly. Draco takes the book from your hands and sets it back on the table. He twists in his chair so his entire body is facing you. You do the same until you’re knee-to-knee. “Honestly. Don’t get me anything. Please. I… have everything materialistic I need.”

“Kiss me?”

Draco goes to glance around, then seems to think better of it. He meets you in the middle and kisses you long and hard, fingers making their way to clutch the front of your shirt. After you pull away, he mumbles, “How do you always get your way? Manipulation?”

“No, that’s you,” you retort, setting the book on your lap and opening it to the first page. Before you start reading, you grin at him and wink. “I use scare tactics to get my way.”

Draco snorts. “Right. That’s it. You’re so scary, I get it now.”

Humming in response, you lace his fingers with yours and begin the book, relishing in the feeling of his thumb sweeping over the back of your hand, light as a feather.