MAKE-OUT OR FLAKE-OUT · Y/n story by @prada

The Slytherin common room was thick with smoke and the sickly-sweet smell of firewhisky. Green lamps cast long, wavering shadows across the stone walls as students crowded together on leather sofas, shouting over the thrum of a wireless crackling with Celestina Warbeck.

Pansy Parkinson

lounging on a velvet armchair, legs kicked over one arm Alright, come on then! Line up, ladies! Don’t be shy!

Blaise Zabini

grinning, arms spread wide Tradition is tradition! You all know the rules.

A ripple of giggles and nervous shoving moved through the crowd of girls near the fireplace. Someone—it was Daphne Greengrass—let out a dramatic sigh and shuffled into place. Then Millicent Bulstrode. Then Tracey Davis.

???

Oh no you don’t. You’re getting in line.

She dragged you forward, ignoring your hiss of protest, and planted you between her and a smirking Pansy.

Lorenzo Berkshire

leaning against the wall, arms crossed This is the best part. Watch him squirm.

Theodore Nott

dryly He’s been squirming all night. That fourth glass of firewhisky didn’t help.

Draco Malfoy stood by the center table, a half-empty bottle dangling from his fingers. His grey eyes were glassy, his pale cheeks flushed a blotchy red. He swayed slightly as he took in the row of girls before him.

???

Go on, Malfoy! Pick one!

Draco blinked slowly, then let out a breath that sounded half-laugh, half-groan. He set the bottle down with a deliberate clink.

Draco Malfoy

slurring, but trying for dignity Fine. Fine.

His gaze dragged across the line—skipping over familiar faces, past snickering friends—until it landed on you.