Warning: Eventual Slash (boy on boy action) and parselsmut . Don't like, don't read.

[See future chapters for further warnings, if necessary.]

Rated: T for now, will change to M later-This is subject to change?

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I do hope you like it! Please, as always, review. Even if it's to say how much you despise this or that you had a lovely cup of coffee with breakfast. All comments welcomed :P

That Hissing.

Draco Malfoy had a problem.

Pansy wanted him to talk to his mother about it because she was all he had left and surely she would understand. Blaise suggested he go see a Mind Healer because he was clearly certifiable. Daphne couldn't seem to see the issue at hand, therefore she herself must be certifiable. Theo was far to shocked to make a comment. Crabbe had said that he had much of the same problem. Vincent merely laughed.

Regardless of the response, once the words had slipped out of Draco's well lubricated lips, there was no mistaking the awkwardness of the situation. Draco knew, Pansy knew, Blaise knew, Daphne knew, Theo knew, hell, even the brutes in the group knew. Everyone understood the ultimate source of the problem.

Yes, it would seem that a simple friendly game of Truth or Dare would be the crack in the sleek façade that Draco Malfoy had worked so hard to cultivate and maintain. When Pansy had suggested the game, the boys had pushed her off and claimed they had better plans.

"Because going to the pitch to fuck around constitutes as 'better plans,'" she snorted. She had them there.

It took her precisely five minutes of cooing and prodding before all five boys decided to play her silly game with her and Daphne.

At first the Dares were mild. Daphne kissed Draco, Daphne kissed Theo, Daphne kissed Blaise, Daphne kissed Pansy - actually, it seemed like Daphne had kissed everyone in each combination of two and three that the group could come up with. Pansy had flashed the group her new swanky bra. Blaise had to strut around the common room in a Gryffindor tie and when asked who and how he got it, make up suggestive stories involving a certain gingerhaired girl and a broom closet. Theo had to ask a ickle first year out on a date. Blaise had to perform the school song. Pansy had to drink an entire glass of Firewhisky - which she absolutely hated. Theo had to kiss the next person through the portrait door to the common roo m- who happened to be a forth year boy. Crabbe had to go ask Snape who his last lover was - which garnered him five nights of detention in the dungeons.

At first the Truths were silly. Did Daphne really share her first kiss with her gardener? Did Blaise like boys more than girls? Had Crabbe ever snogged a girl before? Did Theo fancy Blaise? Did Blaise really lock a goblin in his Gringotts' vault? Did Vincent like Ginny Weasley? Did Pansy want an arranged marriage? Would Daphne take a Dark Mark if asked? Did Theo prefer blonds or brunettes? Did Theo like short hair or long hair? Did Theo like green eyes or brown eyes? Did Theo like long walks or candlelight dinners? Respectively, yes, yes, no, no, yes, yes, no preference, and yes. Theo liked long-haired blondes with green eyes, much to the dismay of the two brunettes in the room. And he preferred neither long walks or candlelight dinners, in favor of staying in and shagging. The members of the house had not learned anything too shocking or new about each other, but could, if asked, adequately write a personal ad for Theo Nott now.

Draco had played participant to some of these dares, but had yet to be chosen for game play.

You see, Pansy and Daphne had heard of this game from some of the less snooty Ravenclaws in their year. This game, Truth or Dare, was normally played by choosing your own person to, well, torture. This was the Muggle way. And that was incredibly boring to the common room full of purebloods. To make it more interesting and more magical, less Muggle, the girls had conjured up a small dial that would randomly select players to the game. Of course, the last person challenged would still hold the next player's fate, but it was a little more tricky this way.

A full hour into silly Dares and Veritaserumed Truths, Draco had yet to be selected. In normal situations he would be huffing and hocking over the asinine game and how dumb the dial was not to select him, but instead, he was rather enjoying the mild embarrassment of his housemates. He should have suspected that things couldn't go so well for him for such a long portion of time. He should have known that his snickering at the others' chagrin might put him in quite the spot later. He should have known that nothing good for him could ever happen in the walls of this hallowed castle.

Just as the Truths and Dares got a little bit more dramatic, Greg had the assigned pleasure to run the whole circumference of the Slytherin dormitory starkers. And of course, being the dutiful housemates they were, Draco and Theo had nicked his uniform and hid it behind the large green ottoman in the corner. Upon his return, Goyle slung a fur blanket around his middle becoming very red in the face and demanded to know who had stolen his clothes. Now Goyle might not be the smartest member of the crowd but he was by far the tallest and heaviest. He towered a good head height over Draco - someone most people had to crane their neck to speak to. At first his demands were met with jokes and snickering, his face getting redder and redder by the moment. Pansy even pointed out how steam seemed to steep out from his ears.

"Give. Me. My. Pants." His jaw as clenched so tightly that the words seemed like growls and each word reverberated off of the stone floors before bouncing into the group's ears. "Who has them? Blaise?"

"Don't know, mate."

"Pansy?"

She shook her head.

"Draco."

"No."

"But you took them."

Draco didn't confirm, nor deny the statement. He had, of course, drank the mandatory sip of Veritaserum at the beginning of the game. Tricky stuff, that Veritaserum. One had to pose a precise question to get the answer they required. When asked if he had the pants, well of course the answer was 'no.' He did not have them, but instead had hid them. And when Gregory said he had taken them - well, that simply was not a question, now was it. Yes, very tricky stuff.

Theo caved, grabbing Greg's uniform from its hiding place and handing it over to the fur-toga clad boy. He nodded his head in thanks, sighed, and changed back into his uniform. Looping his tie around his neck, Greg sat down and waited for the dial to turn to the next player for the game. Draco was not so lucky this time.

"Truth or Dare?"

Draco knew both options were likely to be vile. He wasn't going to get off so easily while the steam was still rolling off of Goyle in sheets. The Dare would most likely be humiliating and public, while the Truth would only reach the ears of this handful of housemates.

"Truth," he said, holding his voice steady and at a perfectly pleasing pitch, acting as if he wasn't completely petrified at either option.

"Taking the coward's way out?"

Draco's head whipped around. It wasn't Goyle who said this, but instead his oldest, dearest friend Pansy. She was one of the few people in his life that could actually grate his nerves and play with his pride. Truthfully that is why he kept her around. She was a challenge and he liked that about her.

"Fine. I change my mind. Dare."

"I dare you to take the Truth," Goyle said.

He shrugged, "See, Pansy, he wants the Truth. I'm sure he will do his very best to make it worth his revenge. Won't you, mate."

"Yes, I will."

Then came a long, very pregnant pause. Goyle was mulling over this single opportunity with such intensity that Draco thought for a moment he had been jinxed to stand still. Goyle knew needed a question that had potential to play out every day, over and over again. He needed a Truth that would make Draco squirm and blush. He needed a Truth that he could poke and prod at leisurely. Something that he could hold over Draco's head to make up for all of the crud that he mocked him for over the years. After all, you only have Draco Malfoy at your mercy, drugged by Veritaserum, once in a lifetime.

"What is your most personally shameful turn on?"

The words had spilled out of Greg's mouth before he had even marinated on whether this would be embarrassing enough. But once the words were out there, floating between the seven Slytherins, they felt right.

Draco bit down on his lip.

Draco squirmed in his chair.

Draco loosened his tie.

Everyone in the circle leaned in.

Draco could feel the words edging behind his teeth, ready to slip over his lubricated lips.

His vocal cords worked over the phonemes before his brain could react.

The words escaped mere moments after Goyle asked his question:

"Parseltongue."