Drink, Eat, Play Risk Poker, and Shag

[lesyeuxverts]

Title: Drink, Eat, Play Risk Poker, and Shag
Author: lesyeuxverts
Recipient: eeyore9990
Pairing: Harry/Draco, Neville/Bill, Hermione/Snape, Percy/Charlie, Luna/Fred/George
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4438
Summary: A post-war celebration in Grimmauld Place
Disclaimer: None of the characters, settings, etc. belong to me – they all belong to JKR, who isn't having nearly enough fun with them.
Highlight for Warnings: *errr … lots of sex, het and slash, implied and explicit … orgies, Weasleycest, twincest, gambling, and enough alcohol to give a dragon a hangover*
AN: Written for eeyore9990 in the fall_fantasia fic exchange. Huge thanks to angela_snape and bewarethesmirk for the fantastic beta job, and to unbroken_halo for running such a great exchange!



The door slammed shut behind Harry, who brandished a bottle of Firewhiskey and tripped over his own feet, setting the wards with a casual flick of his hand. He wobbled his way over to sit between Draco and Percy.

"Now the games can begin, my lieutenants," he announced. "Yesterday, the defeat of the Darkest Dark Lord – tomorrow, we take over the world."

He took a gulp of Firewhiskey straight from the bottle, setting it down on the table with a clunk. "Tonight, in preparation for our noble victory, to hone our strategic skills and ready ourselves for world domination, we play Risk."

Hermione leaned across the table and used her wand to prod the bubble floating over his head. It popped, showering the room with a sparkling, spluttering burst of light. "What –"

Fred sprang to his feet and pumped Hermione's hand. "I just knew you'd be the one to pop our Harry's bubble, brilliantly done Hermione. Brilliantly done."

Harry blinked, reaching for the Firewhiskey. The twins wavered and wobbled, blurring in and out of his vision. "What was that?"

"Our newest joke, first to be produced in the post-war line of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes," George said. He linked elbows with Fred. "Grandiloquent Gum, now available in three limited edition flavours."

"It's a bubble burster, that's for sure," Hermione said. Leaning back against the sofa and bumping Snape with her elbow, she glared at Harry. "I can't believe that you were foolish enough to try any of the twins' products, Harry – what if a Daily Prophet reporter had heard you? The paper would be full of the story the next day, and the Ministry –"

Harry leaned away from her, his fingers fumbling for the bottle. Her hair frazzled and frizzed in the sparks of magic that snapped in her halo, the last fizzle of the Weasley's charm arcing around her.

"I can't imagine why he would listen to a lecture on caution from you, Miss Granger." Snape glared at her elbow until she sat up straight, edging away from him. "Considering that you just touched an unidentified magical substance with the tip of your wand, you hardly seem to be an authority on the subject."

"Enough," Harry said, waving his hand through the air in a broad sweep that encompassed the entire room. "Enough bickering. We won the war, there's no need to fight another one in the parlor of Grimmauld Place, fighting over petty, inconsequential things. There are more important things to do tonight – drink, eat, play Risk, and shag."

He took another gulp of Firewhiskey and added, "In that order."

Draco took the bottle from him with a smirk, pushing away Harry's grasping fingers. "You're too smashed to give orders, Potter. None of us - none of us," he said, looking around the room, "are going to coddle you because you're a war hero."

"We're all war heroes, Draco, but that doesn't mean Harry doesn't deserve a little extra consideration. After all –"

Draco cut Hermione off with a wave of his hand. "No Malfoy will ever play such a plebian game."

While she spluttered, Percy sat up ramrod straight and reached across Harry to take the Firewhiskey from him. "You've not lost an iota of your priggishness or your blood prejudice, Malfoy. If you think that your work during the war will give you the right to return to your old, narrow-minded, bigoted –"

"Please," Draco said. "If you think that these hands will touch anything as cheap and disposable as plastic, there are several spacious dungeons at the Manor. I can lock you up for hours to give you enough time to contemplate the error of your ways."

Harry drew his wand, pointing it at Draco, just as Luna drifted through the wards like a butterfly landing on a soap bubble with a pop, bright light flaring in rainbow colors. Her robes billowed behind her, pumpkin-orange and grape-purple, and she reached up to take her wand from behind her ear. "I didn't know that plastic was a problem for you, Mr. Malfoy," she said.

"You're right to worry, though. I hear that the polyvinyl sprites can be quite vicious." She waved her wand at the game board, turning the cardboard into inlaid wood and the game pieces into tiny jewels that twinkled and winked in the torchlight. "Is that any better?"

Charlie stumbled in her wake and the force of her magic, clinging to her hand and brushing away the tendrils of the wards that snaked after him, grasping and greedy.

"How did you do that?" Snape demanded, leaning forward. "How did you get through the wards?"

"What wards?" Luna asked. She bent to take a sapphire from the game board, flipping the jewel in the air and catching it at the end of its arc.

Fred and George sprang to their feet, taking her by the elbows and leading her to the sofa. They offered her chocolates, which she studied with her eyes crossed and her lower lip caught between her teeth. "No, these appear to have been subject to a Glundimun infestation," she said. "But thanks all the same."

"Miss Lovegood," Snape said. "You cannot break through wards without –"

Hermione leaned across Snape's lap, her hair falling down across his knees. "It defies the third law of the conservation of magic," she said, batting Snape's hand away and settling herself more firmly in his lap. Harry pressed a glass of Firewhiskey into her hands, but she pushed it away and stared at Luna. "It's simply not possible to break through those wards. In Hogwarts, A History -"

"Please stop citing that ridiculous encyclopedic monstrosity, Miss Granger. It is no testament to your intelligence." Snape pushed her off his lap, sending her sprawling at Harry's feet. "I should have imagined you capable of reading more than one book in the past seven years."

"Risk," Harry said, helping Hermione up off the ground. He settled her onto the sofa next to him, putting an arm around her and stroking her shoulders. "Let us play, lieutenants."

Draco pulled Harry away from her, yanking him along the sofa with a hand grasping each wrist. "Do you have any idea what you're suggesting, Potter?"

"That you lay your precious, aristocratic fingers on materials that used to be made of cheap Muggle plastic, I know," Harry said. "I don't think I'll ever recover from the trauma – the very idea."

Draco leaned closer, his breath warm and moist against Harry's neck. "Idiot," he said, lips pressed to Harry's ear. "Risk takes hours – you won't get to the shagging until tomorrow, if you insist on playing that game."

"Right," Harry said. He pulled Draco's arm around his shoulder and stood, wobbling, and gestured to the room, whiskey sloshing over the rim of his glass. "My loyal, faithful friends, we are in need of a diversion. A celebration. Foreplay before we fuck."

"Poker," Snape said, his long fingers folded around his knees. He sat ramrod straight, his shadow sharp on the floor, and Summoned the Firewhiskey to himself. "A perfectly respectable Muggle game, and even Draco will approve. It suits his mercenary instincts."

"Strip poker," the twins said in unison, their arms wrapped around Luna. "Let's play strip poker."

"I hardly think –" Snape said, breaking off as Hermione crawled back onto the sofa and leaned across his lap, twining her fingers with his.

"Strip poker is a fabulous idea," she said, her breasts pressed against Snape's thighs. Rubbing against him and slipping her fingers under his robes, she twisted until she could grin up at him.

He relented, with a last glare at Fred and George. "On your own heads be it," he said. "By now, I suppose I should expect nothing less than mayhem and murder from you."

Harry rested his chin on Draco's shoulder, reaching across him for the Firewhiskey, but Draco grabbed his hand. "I think you've had enough of that, don't you?"

Harry blinked, trying to reach for the bottle, and Draco pulled him closer. "Look, the twins have conjured some cards. Want to play?"

"Muggle playing cards are coated with plastic, you know," Percy told Draco. "Are you certain that you're willing to stoop to such a level?"

Draco stood, one hand on Harry's shoulder for balance, and looked down at Percy. "I'll not only play, I'll win," he said.

With slow, deliberate motions, he unbuttoned his robe and let it drop to the floor with a silken swoosh, revealing his trousers and white starched shirt. "I'm even willing to give you an advantage."

Charlie pulled Percy over to the table, settling him into a chair and sitting in his lap. Swinging around, he framed Percy's face with both hands. "Ignore him, brother. He's not worth it."

Blinking and swallowing past a suddenly dry throat, Harry watched Charlie pull Percy up into a kiss. Charlie's hair fell loose around them, long enough to hide their faces, but nothing hid the swiveling motion of Charlie's hips or the muffled noises coming from Percy.

Draco pulled Harry hard against him, reaching down to cup his cock and stroke it through the loose robes, bringing it to full hardness. "Do you want to watch them?" he asked. "Do you want to fuck in front of them?"

"Ante up, Luna," Fred said, tapping her on the shoulder. "The rest of you, stop staring at my brothers and take your cards already. We've got a serious game to play."

Luna squinted at her cards, turning them upside down and leaning against George. "I don't know," she said. "What was the question?"

Hermione and Snape took the chair next to Harry and Draco, speaking to each other in low voices as the hand played out. "Your notes were invaluable," she told him, and Harry scooted over in his chair, putting his fingers on Draco's lips and listening to them. "I couldn't have come up with the formula for the Horcrux-destroying potion without them."

"Merely the work of my youth," Snape said, his voice like spices and honey. Harry shivered. "It was nothing."

"It wasn't nothing," Hermione said. "We couldn't have won the war without you."

"We couldn't have won the war without you," Draco repeated, whispering the words into Harry's ear. "Honestly, Potter, don't you have any manners? Don't eavesdrop."

"I need to make sure Hermione is safe and happy," Harry told him in a whisper. "She's not going to ruin –"

"Hush, and let her mind her own business." Draco covered Harry's mouth with his own, stopping his protest. He forced Harry's lips apart, their tongues thrusting together, and pulled back with a satisfied look. "Don't you know enough to recognize romance when you see it? Hermione and Severus are well-matched."

"You're holding up the game," George said, tapping his glass on the table. The sound echoed in the sudden silence, all eyes on them, and Harry blushed, trying to pull away from Draco.

"Does anyone have a queen?" Luna asked. "Hermione, what about you?"

She looked down at her cards and then back up at Luna, shaking her head. Snape caught her wrist and pressed a kiss to it, and she turned to him with a smile. "No queens here, I'm afraid."

"One that we aren't willing to part with." Snape's arms tightened around her, and Harry tensed before leaning back against Draco.

"If he hurts her …"

Draco cut off his muttered threat with a hand over his lips. "Stop worrying about it. Do you need another drink to focus on me instead of her? I know that she's practically your sister, Potter, but I practically have my hands down your pants."

"Draco, it's your turn," Luna said.

He grimaced and flipped his cards onto the table. "I fold."

Without looking at Harry's cards, he slapped them down as well. "Harry folds, too."

"What? I didn't even –"

"The losers take their clothes off," Draco said, his fingers working their way under Harry's shirt and stroking his belly. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Dizzy with the whiskey and the spicy, lingering smell of Draco's cologne, Harry shook his head and leaned back in his chair. "I fold."

Draco's arms came up around him and Harry relaxed into the firm embrace. Hermione and Snape both passed, Snape covering her hand when she reached for another card. "Don't overplay it," he said to her, and Harry blinked at seeing the radiant smile that she gave him.

"She loves him," he told Draco, loud enough for the room to hear.

"I do," Hermione said, "not that it's any of your business. You should mind your own affairs – and Draco, if you hurt him, I'll tear out your guts and spread them along the sidewalk in front to feed the crows and the homeless beggars."

"And if Potter –"

"Enough bickering," Draco said, taking a swig of Harry's Firewhiskey. "Your turn, Weasel-dee and Weasel-dum."

"No thanks, mate."

Luna, wrapped in their arms, shook her head at Draco. "Go Fish," she said.

"Oy, that's enough of that," Fred said. He took away the herbal concoction that Luna was drinking and handed her another card.

"You need to take your shirt off now, love," George told her.

Blinking, she stripped it off with slow, steady motions, her fingers lingering on every buttonhole and seam. Harry's view of her pale curves, the swell of her breasts and the long line of her throat was cut off when Draco straddled his lap, turning to face him and catching his lips in a kiss.

"Don't pay any attention to that," Draco said, grinding against him. Their cocks rubbed together through the layers of denim, and Harry arched up against Draco, pulling him closer.

"More."

"Stop that, both of you," Snape said. "This is a victory celebration, not some tawdry brothel."

"Yes," Percy said, glaring at Harry over the wire rims of his glasses. "If you're quite finished?"

"We're nowhere near finished," Draco said, his fingers warm on Harry's throat.

"Let's play," Luna said. Draco twisted around in Harry's lap, his arse pressed against Harry's groin, and Luna smiled, wetting her fingers with her tongue and slipping them under her bra to touch her nipples. "I'm ready," she said.

"Yes, you certainly are," the twins said in unison, reaching across her to kiss each other. Harry held Draco close, putting a hand over his lips and receiving a nip for his pains.

"Stop that," Draco said. "You can't muzzle me."

"Full house," Charlie said, flinging his cards onto the table. They skidded across the surface, landing in the puddle of condensation that had seeped from Luna's abandoned glass. He wrapped an arm around Percy, leaving one hand free to pull off his glasses and trace the lines of his face.

"Just the way a house should be," he said before bending down to kiss Percy.

"Weasleys, oh my eyes," Draco said, flopping back against Harry and flinging an arm to cover his face. "I can't stand it."

"Take ferret mouth elsewhere, Harry," Hermione said, having already unbuttoned her shirt in forfeit and reaching over to help Snape with his. "It's quite obvious that the two of you are more interested in each other than you are in playing this game."

"I want to play," Harry said. "It's not my fault that he's such a –"

"Finish that sentence, and you will suffer tonight."

"Right. We'll just go upstairs and go to bed, shall we?"

"And miss all the fun?" Luna asked. She had unbuttoned her bra and was rolling her nipples between her fingers, tweaking them to full hardness. She arched her neck as the twins kissed her, Fred slipping a hand up her skirt. "The party's just starting."

"If they're going to stay and play –"

"- they need to play by the rules," the twins said.

"Not an ability that either of them is known to possess," Snape said. He twitched his eyebrow at Draco, apparently too relaxed with the whiskey and the weight of Hermione in his lap to manage a full sneer. "Let them go, Miss Lovegood. We'll have enough fun without them."

Before Luna could say another word, Harry blew her a kiss and pulled Draco up out of his chair, dragging him toward the stairs. "Come on."

"Don't manhandle me, Potter. You can't just assume that I'll be your faithful harem boy, obedient to your every –"

"You promised," Harry said, pressing him into the wall. "I won the wager, fair and square, and I defeated Voldemort, saving your family from shame and slavery. You owe me, and you promised me this."

In the flickering shadows, Draco's expression was hard to read. "Will you force me if I don't want to do it? Is the great golden Gryffindor, the fabulous Harry Potter, not above coercion and rape?"

"You weren't unwilling a moment ago."

Draco slipped out of Harry's grip, spinning to reverse their positions and pressing Harry against the wall. His lips warm against Harry's throat, he said, "A moment ago, I was on top."

Harry thrust his leg between Draco's, rubbing his thigh against Draco's hard cock. "If you think that I'm going to let you top –"

"I never bottom, Potter."

"Those were the terms. If I defeated Voldemort, you would bottom for me for a week. If I died, I would grovel before you in the afterlife and spend eternity satisfying your every whim."

Harry pushed Draco up the stairs, tasting the whiskey in his mouth and measuring his heartbeat with slow, gentle strokes that mapped his throat. "You're mine," he said, pressing Draco against the bedroom door. "You're mine tonight."

"Every night," Draco said, arching into Harry's kiss. "Just please – oh, right there, oh please."

Harry pressed the door open with his hip, using his fingers to unbutton Draco's starched shirt. He left the school tie, the Slytherin colors gleaming in the dim light, and used it to tease Draco's nipples.

He circled them with the tip of it, dipping in to brush them with the silky fabric, holding Draco still and peppering kisses over his face and throat. "What do you want?"

"You," Draco said between kisses. "Want you. Harry – now, please –"

Harry steered him across the room and toward the bed, pressing him against the mattress and stopping only when he heard a sudden grunt.

"Hey," Bill said, poking his head out from under the comforter, "what the fuck are you two doing in here?"

"What do you think we're doing?" Harry began pulling Draco's trousers down, rubbing circles around his hipbones and navel. He ghosted moist kisses across Draco's chest, lingering near his nipples without touching them, waiting for Draco's impatient moans. "This is my bedroom," he said, his breath raising goose pimples on Draco's skin.

"Sorry, Harry," Neville said, poking out from under the covers. He laid his head on Bill's bare chest, giving Harry a sleepy smile. "Poppy's still using my room as a makeshift infirmary – she says that Ron is going to come around, but it'll take time and care."

"Of course," Harry said, pulling Draco back from the bed. He slipped a hand under the waistband of Draco's trousers, cupping the curve of his arse and squeezing. "We'll just … we'll just, umm …"

"Stay," Bill said, reaching a hand out to them. His wrist was caught by the beam of moonlight that shone through the window, his freckles barely visible and his red hair burnished to darkness. A stray spark of light caught the dangle of his fang earring and highlighted his rakish grin. "The bed's big enough for four."

Harry hesitated, but Draco stepped toward the bed, grasping Harry's wrist and forcing him to come along. "Potter is drunk and delusional," he announced to Bill and Neville. "You mustn't believe anything that he says in this state."

"I think we can handle that," Bill said. He pulled the covers down, baring the knobby ridges of Neville's spine and the plump curve of his arse, stroking the skin as it was revealed to Harry and Draco. "Do you think that you can handle us?"

Neville squirmed under Bill's fingers, his eyes fluttering closed as he turned away from Harry and Draco. "More," he said, tracing Bill's scars. "I need more."

"I didn't know that the two of you were –"

"It's none of our business, Potter." Draco pushed Harry up onto the bed, which expanded to make room for all of them. He straddled Harry's lap, pressing a hand over his mouth. "Do Gryffindors always feel this ridiculous urge to meddle in relationships that are not their own?"

"You are outnumbered, Malfoy," Neville said. "You might want to keep that in mind."

"You are outclassed, Longbottom. Any Slytherin is worth seven Gryffindors at least."

Watching Draco, Bill leaned in to give Harry a long kiss – so slow and tender and bone-melting, it made Harry's toes curl. Bill tasted of spiced wine and he mapped Harry's mouth with passion and precision, learning him by taste.

His hair brushed across Harry's neck and collarbones as he pulled away, smirking at Draco when Harry gave a little mewl of distress. "Still think that we're outclassed?"

Draco put his arms around Harry's shoulders. "No one kisses my- my Potter," he said. "Hands off, Weasley."

"Enough bickering," Neville said, clasping his hands around Bill's neck and pulling him closer.

He smiled at Bill like a wanton cherub, his dimples showing as he traced the planes of Bill's chest and pressed kisses along the line of his throat. "Don't you want me?"

Bill rolled over, pressing Neville against the wall and pinning him there. "Absolutely, love."

Looking over his shoulder, he told Draco, "I'll keep my hands off of your Potter as long as you don't touch Neville."

Draco nodded, sweeping his hair back over his shoulders and turning back to Harry. With a flick of his wand, he Banished the rest of their clothing and Summoned a vial of lube from the nightstand.

Harry caught his wrist and held it, taking the lube from him. "A promise is a promise."

With ill grace, Draco rolled over onto his back and spread his legs, flinging his arms out in a martyred position. "Fine," he said. "Get it over with."

Kneeling between Draco's legs, Harry unstoppered the vial and smirked. "Oh, no, love. I'm going to make this one last."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Neville going down on Bill, taking all of his cock at once, his cheeks hollowed as he sucked and his fingers busy stroking Bill's chest. He traced each scar, mapped each freckle, teased the nipples to taut peaks –

Draco thrust up against Harry. "Remember me? The bloke you're going to fuck? Some attention would be nice."

Harry kissed him silent, pulling Draco's feet up to his shoulders and swiping his thumb along the soles. He kept the touch light enough to tantalize but too firm to tickle as he traced the veins and whorls of Draco's feet.

Draco's eyes fluttered shut and he arched up into the caresses as he spread his legs wider for Harry. "Do it," he begged, breaking the kiss for air.

Harry dipped his fingers in the lube and traced the rim of Draco's hole as he leaned back on his knees, taking Draco's big toe into his mouth. He sucked hard, hard enough to make Draco moan and hard enough to make Bill and Neville look over from their lovemaking.

"Never would have pegged you for a foot fetishist, Malfoy," Bill said, his slow drawl made deep and husky with desire. "Nor a bottom. All sorts of surprises in store tonight, it seems."

"I am not a bottom," Draco said. He scooted away from Harry's touch, glaring at Bill and at Neville, who was spread-eagled with his wrists bound to the headboard. "This is not what it looks like."

"Well, it sounds like you panting and squirming like a slut for Harry, begging him to take you," Neville said.

"Yes, do go on."

Harry grinned at them, shifting up to catch Draco for another kiss. "Don't think about them, love," he said into Draco's ear, punctuating each word with a nip to the sensitive earlobe. Without a pause, he thrust two fingers into Draco, putting his weight down and pinning him in place when he would have squirmed away.

"You'll love it, I promise."

He prepared Draco slowly, opening him up with fingers and kisses, holding him when he squirmed and kissing him when he protested. The Firewhiskey had burned off, leaving Harry clear and centered as he looked down at Draco.

Neville and Bill were moaning, fucking, the bed shaking with them as they moved, and still Harry waited. "All right?" he asked, crooking his fingers to brush against Draco's prostate.

"Fuck," Draco said, his breath coming in a short, ragged gasp. "Do that again."

Harry obliged him, hitting his prostate until he begged, his fingers scrabbling on Harry's back and his eyes fluttering shut. "Do it now before I come," he demanded. "I want you in me – oh, fuck, do it again."

They kissed as Harry fucked him, passing breath and sigh between their lips, sharing them as they moved together. Bill and Neville fell into their rhythm, the bed thudding against the wall as the four of them rocked together, and then Draco clenched his muscles around Harry, urging him to go faster.

It was perfect, hot and tight, and Harry faltered, breaking their rhythm. "Draco – need you –"

Draco flipped Harry over, pressing his palms flat on Harry's chest and smirking down at him. "You'll have me," he said, riding Harry. His muscles flexed as he moved up and down, his breath came in soft warm puffs against Harry's neck, and it was too much.

Harry cried out and came, unable to hold back any longer. Draco kissed him through it, claiming his mouth and his soft moans. "Mine," Draco said in his ear.

He pumped his cock until he came on Harry's chest, and then he rubbed the come into Harry's skin, lifting a finger to his lips to taste it. "Mine," Draco said again, smirking down at him. "I knew you wouldn't let that scaly-faced bastard kill you."

"You did not," Harry said, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "You don't bluff that well."

Draco only smiled, nestling against the curve of Harry's shoulder and fluttering his fingers through the sparse patches of hair on Harry's chest. "You'll have to wait and see how well I bluff, the next time we play poker."