Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter because the great and wonderful J. K. Rowling does! I am merely playing with them... I will put them back once I'm done though... maybe.

Summary: Draco and Harry find themselves locked in a closet together. This is what happen after that little encounter.

AN: This is a sequel to Truth or Dare? Reading that is pretty much a must if you intend on understanding this story.

AN: Please enjoy!

Dedicated to Chelsea because she's a whore with me and because she read all of my stories. That's an impressive feat my friend.

AN number deux: Just so you know... I like the title of this story... that's the reason I'm writing this... because I like the title. How lame is that?

OH, and I know that it's unbelievingly short but... that's what you're getting.

Coming Out of the Closet

Dumbledore tapped his wire rimmed glasses on his oak desk and smiled, eyes twinkling.

Harry sat in a stiff chair across from the headmaster. Draco sat beside him and seemed very interested in the pocket lint that had collected on his black trousers.

"It seems," Dumbledore said, resting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "That you two stole Professor Snape's liquor last night."

Harry stared ahead, his expression blank. Draco on the other hand was ruthlessly attacking his pants with a vengeance.

"Therefore," Dumbledore continued. "You two will be serving detention with him every night this week. You will start tonight at eight o'clock in the potions classroom."

He stood and smiled at the boys, rubbing his beard.

"That's all," he informed them. "You may go now."

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"A Malfoy is not made for hard labor," Draco huffed.

"What are you complaining about over there?" Harry asked, dipping his sponge into a warm, frothy bucket of water.

"I said," Draco responded, exasperated. "That Malfoys are not made for this. This is a servant's job."

Harry rolled his eyes and continued scrubbing the tiled floor.

"So," Harry started.

"So what?" Draco asked, casually tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

"Nothing."

"What is it, Potter?"

"It's just... are we going to act like it didn't happen?"

"What?"

Harry glared at the other boy.

"You know... last night."

"Do you want to act like it did happen?"

Draco sat down on the floor, crossing his legs.

"I don't know," Harry answered, turning away.

Draco crawled over to the brunette and smirked at him.

"You know," Draco whispered, pressing his lips to the Gryiffindor's ear. "I have some fire whiskey stashed in my trunk. We could have a little fun with that."

A small smile appeared on Harry's face and a twinkle of mischief shone in his emerald eyes.