Boy's Bathroom pt.1
Draco woke up with his face covered in scrambled eggs.
He banged his knee on the underside of the Slytherin Dining table as he jerked awake. Rubbing his throbbing knee, he looked around at the morning light gracing the Great Hall like it was one of the seven layers of Hell.
Blaise was laughing at him from across the table. Draco wanted to scowl, but he was so disoriented all he could do was blink vacantly.
Had he been drinking?
He felt drunk.
When had he gotten here?
How had he gotten here?
There was a fork in his hand and yellow egg in his hair. Pansy reached over with her claw-like manicure and picked it out before he could swat her away. She was always touching him and he did not like her like that.
Too bad they were practically betrothed.
"What…?" Draco’s pale hands absentmindedly drifted to the sides of his head, where he felt relieved for some reason to find human ears there. Why wouldn’t he have human ears?
"What what?" Balise asked through a mouthful of muggle cereal.
Draco scanned the room and shifted in his seat. His trousers felt awfully uncomfortable for some reason.
The sun was shining through the stained glass windows by the headmaster’s podium and colored light painted his hands and wrists as they fidgeted on the table. A sliver of pink light pooled in his palm and he quickly moved his hands under the table.
"How-?" He had to choose his words carefully, "How long have we been sitting here?"
"I don't know,” Blaise was picking out the marshmallows from his food. “Maybe five minutes? Why?"
But Draco didn’t reply because Hermione Granger was staring at him across the room. She stood, hands splayed on the table, as she ignored whatever Potter and Weasle were chatting about. Her eyes were molten honey.
She smirked, and Draco felt heat blossom at the pit of his stomach.
He stood up and murmured some half-baked excuse before practically fleeing the room.
Something was very, very wrong with him.
His trousers were uncomfortable against his groin, rubbing against something sensitive this way and that as he walked. Granger’s smirk played on repeat in his mind and he somehow knew that she would taste like candy.
Taste like candy?! Where the hell did that come from?
His breaths were coming in hot pants by the time he reached the boy's bathroom.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
He practically fell into the bathroom, stumbling to the sink with one arm against his burning lower abdomen. Thank Merlin he was alone.
He didn't recall turning on the faucet, but he was now splashing cold water all over - not worrying about his hair or how the front of his silk shirt was now soaked. He just needed to quench the fire in his cheeks, stomach, pelvis-
He switched off the water- it wasn't helping anyway. Gripping the edges of the cracked sink, he leaned his forehead against the mirror, his breath fogging up the glass.
He didn't remember going to bed or waking up. And he hated eggs. Someone has obviously grabbed breakfast for him, and Blaise and Pansey didn't do that sort of thing.
The last thing he remembered was retreating to an empty classroom to process his father’s latest howler to him without the prying eyes of his “friends” nearby. He had sat down to re-read it, and then… had Granger come into the room?
Had he dreamt that?
She had snapped his wand, grabbed his wrist and-
And…
Oh God.
Where were these thoughts coming from?!
The door to one of the stalls creaked open like a death sentence. Draco whipped around to find Potter leaning against the door of an unused stall.
He smiled, a flash of white teeth and cruel dimples. "Hello, Draco."