Chapter 2

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"What is going on here?" Pomona Sprout cried, her voice distant as though coming from the other end of the castle. "Potter, Malfoy, get up this instant!"

Spurred into action by the order, Potter struggled to get up, squirming on top of Draco and in the process shoving his hand more firmly against Draco's crotch.

Draco yelped and growled, "Stop groping me, Potter!"

Laughter broke out at his words and Draco's cheeks flushed.

"Says the idiot who's fondling my arse!" Potter whispered furiously.

Embarrassed, Draco tried to free his hand but all he managed to do was grip Potter's buttocks harder. It was Potter's turn to yelp and he did so loudly, bucking and squirming, undoubtedly trying to knock off Draco's hand. If Draco hadn't been so utterly mortified, he would have found Potter's behaviour hysterical. Potter was making things worse by squirming; the sight of them must have looked terribly wrong. Draco groaned and hit the back of his head against the floor, hoping he'd manage to knock himself unconscious.

"Really now," Sprout said, sounding scandalized.

Potter squirmed harder and Draco groaned again. "Stop that, Potter. Honestly, is this doing something for you? Go find someone else to molest."

Potter stopped struggling and glared down at Draco instead.

"This is your fault," Potter accused, his eyes narrowing.

Surprised, Draco noted that Potter didn't have his glasses; they must have fallen off as Potter landed on top of him. Potter looked strange without them; his myopic glare wasn't as threatening and convincing as it usually was. He looked like a kicked puppy, the image amplified because of the rope tied around his neck.

Draco cocked his head and eyed the tight knot. "I bet if I twist just right, I could choke you to death," he pondered out loud.

"I bet if I squeeze hard enough, I could damage your precious manly equipment," Potter retorted and pushed his left hand a little higher up.

An undignified squeak escaped Draco's mouth and, not knowing what else to do, he quickly retaliated by squeezing Potter's arse savagely. Potter didn't make a sound, but he shut his eyes tightly, his head falling down in the crook of Draco's neck. In the next second they separated and gasped in horror, desperately trying to free themselves.

"Relashio!" Sprout cried.

Draco nearly shouted in relief, expecting them to be freed, but no such thing happened. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sprout shake her wand and clear her throat before she tried again.

"Relashio!" she said firmly, but the ropes didn't budge.

Draco shut his eyes in misery. Merlin, he would die here; squished to death by Harry Potter's trollish weight.

"Let me try," a brisk voice said.

Draco's eyes snapped open. "No, not her!" he cried. "Don't you point your wand at me, Granger!"

Granger blinked at him and lowered her wand a little. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were having a good time. Should I leave you to it, then?"

"No!" Potter yelled, obviously distressed. "Please, Hermione, do try."

Draco rolled his eyes. Potter addressed her as though she was the answer to all his prayers.

"Oh, I'm having loads of fun, can't you tell?" Draco said sarcastically.

Granger's mouth twitched. "I can see that. I suppose that otherwise you'd remove your hand from Harry's arse."

"I can't, you idiot mu — ah, person," Draco wheezed as Potter pressed his hands against his balls again.

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