Confrontation
“Hey, Ha- I mean, Potter…” Alchemy was the only elective class Draco took alone with Harry, so after class, he stopped Harry, who was on his way out.
“What is it, Malfoy,” Harry lets out an exhausted sigh, wanting to go back to his dorm for a long-awaited nap. He leans against one of the classroom desks and looks down at the small blonde boy squirming as he waits for the last of the students to leave the room.
Trying to look as assertive as possible, Draco crosses his arms, shifts his weight onto his right leg, and says, “I wanted to ask what happened yesterday. Blaise and Theo won’t tell me.”
Harry smugly grins and also crosses his arms in a mocking way that undermines Draco’s false confidence, “That’s probably because they lost really fucking badly yesterday.”
Draco’s tight lips frown downwards, knitting his eyebrows in confusion, he asks again “Well, what happened?”
“You were fucking out of this plain of existence and threw up all over me, that’s what happened,” Harry shifts his posture as he stands up and walks closer to Draco, “And those stupid gits just started throwing punches.”
Draco glares up at Harry’s blatant disrespect of his personal space and takes a step back.
“Oh, and my shift is still dirty, by the way,” Harry smiles. “Don’t you think you should compensate me for it?”
Harry’s eyes travel down Draco’s body down to where his skirt ended. Harry sits back down on the table and traces his fingers down Draco’s thighs. “You know… as much as I shat on you for wearing these ridiculous outfits when you still looked like a bloke. This little ensemble doesn’t look half bad on you now.”
Draco’s face flushes a deep red, spreading all the way up to his ears. Before his head to comprehend anything, he raises his hand and slaps Harry right across the face. As fragile as Draco looks now, the sound of the slap radiated across the room, enough to leave Harry a bit dazed by what happened.
It took about three seconds for Harry to react to the slap as he grabbed Draco by the hair and forced him to stand up on his tippy toes to look up at his face.
Draco could tell by Harry’s face that he was furious. “I don’t give a fuck if you look like a bitch now; I’ll still beat you to a pulp, Malfoy.”
Draco could feel Harry’s hand gripping harder as he tried to grab Harry’s hand off of him. “Potter, fuck! Let me go!”
“If you’re gonna act like a bitch, I’ll treat you like a bitch,” releasing his fingers from Draco’s hair, he pushes Draco down across the desk Harry was just sitting on and flips up his skirt. “Holy shit, you got rid of your balls?”
At this point, Draco’s red face turns almost a deep maroon as he tries to look back at Harry and starts to kick his legs. “Potter, let me go! I’ll tell father about this!”
Harry laughs, “Don’t worry, Malfoy. I know you wouldn’t.” While his left-hand grips both Draco’s arms that fit perfectly tight in his hands, his right-hand shoots towards the sky and releases a heavy blow onto Draco’s ass, after another, and another.
“Ow- OW! Potter! Stop!” Draco starts to thrash harder as tears stream down his face, Harry really wasn’t holding back with these slaps.
“Shut the fuck up, Malfoy,” Harry finishes his last blow, “you wouldn’t want people walking in on us. If your father hears you got spanked like a little kid by ‘sweet Harry’?”
It was true. Growing up together, father never had a single bad bone to pick with Harry; sometimes, he would even compliment him on what a ‘fine young man’ Harry has grown into. He would never believe that Harry to lay his hands on his precious son. But then again, Draco wouldn’t even want to tell anyone.
Harry releases Draco’s arms and waits for him to shakingly straighten down his skirt and wipe his eyes on the back of his hands. “Why…” Draco grips on the ends of his skirt as he looks down at the floor, more tears threatening to fall.
Harry shrugs and walks past him to leave towards the door, “For what your two boyfriends did yesterday. And I'll expect you to pay me back for the shirt you ruined, too. ” Leaving Draco alone in the empty classroom. Leaving him and just his thoughts.
Walking back to the slytherin dungeons was a whole other embarrassing spectacle. He could feel the red warts on his hands slowly heat up as they turned into bruises, and every step he took as a pain; he had to brush off and act normal. Theo and Blaise were waiting for Draco, as always, in the standard room, but Draco brushed past them as he gave him a withering glare not to follow, leaving them confused.
Draco didn’t know why he was mad at them, but he was. It was their fault for beating Harry up and for Harry to release his anger out of him. Deciding to go to bed early with no desire to think anymore, Draco rolled his aching body on his bed and drifted off to sleep.