Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters, they totally belong to JK Rowling. She's a fantastic author, and I respect her so much, I would never steal anything or claim anything.

Authors Note: This is the first slash I'm writing. I hope you'll like it!My mother's tongue isdanish, so my vocabulary isn't the best. Forgive me.

Thank you very much Princesspepperfor beta-reading this chapter!

Drunk

Chapter1

Vodka

The Yule ball. How he hated this time of the year; this day when everybody was happy, and excited, talking about their clothes, their hair, their dates, and everything else they could possibly think of. Harry wasn't interested in getting a date. Hell, he wasn't even interested in going to this stupid party at all! He didn't want to dance, and he didn't want to flirt; he just wanted to get this day over with.

So Harry got himself drunk.

Fred and George had made sure that Harry and Ron were going to have some "fun" this year. They had visited their room earlier that day, leaving a few bags filled with bottles of something that smelled like medicine. Ron had seen the word "Vodka" on the side of the bottles.

Harry remembered uncle Vernon drinking the weird-smelling Muggle liquid every night before going bed. It often made him calm after yelling at Harry all day. It didn't quite make Harry feel that way, though. After a few glasses, he started to feel a little dizzy. Then everything began to spin very fast, and after 5 glasses, he started seeing double.

After shaking hands with a few Slytherins, smacking McGonagall's ass saying, "Aren't you a naughty girl, Professor," kissing her cheek and stumbling towards a group of first-years, trying to get their phone numbers, he knew he had done it:

He was now more drunk than an alcoholic on a bad day.

And there he sat now, at one of the big tables in the Great Hall, looking at the dancing couples floating around the floor in all their shiny and colourful dress robes.

He had his vodka hidden under his black robe, taking swallows of the strong liquid every now and then. Hermione had already been there once, asking him to look at least a little happy. "It's the Yule Ball, Harry, come dance with me!" she had said, pulling at his sleeve. He had just looked at her with an empty gaze, muttering a "bugger off," and turning away from her. She hadn't spoken to him after that.

God he was so tired. Tired of being such a coward, he couldn't even ask a girl to go out, so that way he wouldn't be sitting here by himself, drinking. What the hell was his problem? Why couldn't he just have a good time, like all normal teenagers?

He shrugged. The only person he actually wanted to talk to was Sirius but he wasn't here anymore. He was dead. Dead... Gone forever. He wanted to scream, wanted to hit somebody very hard, let everyone know how bad he felt right now, how lonely he felt, sitting here surrounded by so many people, but still feeling like he was all alone in this world.

He took a big sip of his vodka. Tears were forming behind his eyelids, pushing him to drink more and more, wanting him to burn his brain away with the alcohol so he wasn't able to think anymore—wasn't able to remember.

He stood up. The whole room was spinning. He murmured a "shit" and headed for the stairways. "I don't want this anymore," he thought. "I don't want to think."

He reached the window inside an empty classroom and pushed it open. The freezing coldness hit him with such a force; he thought he was going to get blown away. His head was starting to hurt, and the pain mingled with the coldness let him to the edge of misery. "Fuck…." He looked down on the ground. He wouldn't even feel anything if.… He began to climb into a sitting position in the window frame. Then he slowly learned forward...

"What the fuck!" A pair of strong arms grabbed his waist and hauled him down onto the floor with a loud thud. His glasses landed a few inches away, making his view blurred.

"Let GO of me!" Harry yelled, wriggling under the stranger's hard body.

"Not until you fucking relax, Potter!" a familiar drawling answered, sending shivers down Harry's spine.

"Malfoy?"

Harry stopped squirming and tried to make his eyes focus on the boy above him. "Here." His glasses were placed on his nose, making him see a little more clearly, and directly into the eyes of his archenemy.

The eyes were shiny and cold; he glared back at Harry with a confused expression, but also with something else... could it be worry? He couldn't help it, he had to admit, that Malfoy was handsome.

His white-blond hair was not glued back on his head with gel (probably due to the Ball, Harry thought). It fell into his eyes, making him look a little younger and somehow mysterious. Harry wanted to touch those silky strands, run his fingers through them, tilting that perfect face against his...

Malfoy stood up suddenly, pulling Harry upward and making him sit against the wall, then finding a chair for him to sit on. Then, he started: "I don't know what you're up to Potter, but your pal Dumbledore wouldn't like to hear that his favourite student just attempted jumping out of the window." He looked at Harry with an evil smirk. "And you're drunk too, aren't you? My, Potter, this is great gossip for a guy like me and I'm so bad at keeping secrets..." He had a fake innocent expression on his face Harry tried to open his mouth to throw an insult back, but his words just didn't seemed to fit together anymore.

He was so dizzy; everything just kept spinning and turning. Suddenly he found this situation very amusing. Draco Malfoy, sitting there in front of him, asking him questions. He, Harry, was sitting on the floor in the Astronomy Tower, drunk and ready to kill himself any minute.

He started to giggle. Then it got louder and louder, he had to hold his stomach while gasping for air, tears of laughter, misery, and fear about what he'd just tried to do sliding down his cheeks. Finally he stopped, and he found Malfoy looking at him strangely.

"You're losing it, Potter, I thought you were stupid, now I know that you're a complete lunatic! He started to leave, throwing an, "I shouldn't have saved you, I don't know what I was thinking!" over his shoulder. Harry somehow felt his stomach making twisting; he got up and took hold of Malfoy's robe, turning the other boy towards him. "Wait...!" But he couldn't help it, he started giggling again. It was difficult not to start swaying from side to side with the alcohol swimming through his body.

He looked into Draco's eyes. "Tchank you fo'er saving me!" he spluttered, trying to look a little serious. Draco made a disgusted face, backing backwards towards the door.

"Eww, don't spit in my face you stupid Gryffindor! Let go of me!"

Harry didn't want to let go. His green eyes wouldn't leave Draco's silver ones. For the first time, he really saw Draco. Saw him as an equal, a boy his age (a really handsome boy his age), not the boy he had hated for almost seven years, not the young man who was definitely going to be a Death Eater someday, but just Draco.

He felt the need to do something, while he was still half-drunk. So he did the only reasonable thing to do. He learned forward, pressing his lips to Draco's in a deep, breathtaking kiss.

He felt the other buy stiffen in shock. This just made Harry moan, open his mouth further to lick at Draco's lips, his teeth, his tongue tasting of butterbeer and something else, he couldn't get his mind on. He felt like he was on fire. He was burning with a hot, deep passion, which made him begin to feel something in his body... respond to his action. Finally he broke the kiss, letting his mouth rest right beside Draco's ear.

He smiled. Draco didn't say a word. Harry thought that maybe he had fallen asleep. He couldn't help but giggle at that thought. "Thanks again for saving me, Malfoy," he whispered. Then, he stumbled out the door with a snicker, trying to get to his dungeon before passing out in the hallway. He might also need to make himself a healing spell for his head... "To hell with Vodka," he muttered, walking up the stairs...

Draco stood alone in the dark classroom. The silence surrounded him after Harry had left the room. He didn't dare to move, the kiss still tingling on his lips. He let himself slide down to the floor, looking into the darkness.

"What the fuck just happened?"

TBC