Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/169603.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Draco_Malfoy/Horace_Slughorn
  Character:
      Horace_Slughorn, Draco_Malfoy
  Series:
      Part 3 of From_Great_Moments_in_Death_Eater_History,_Vol._II,_1995--
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-03-12 Words: 294
****** Requirement ******
by ishafel
Summary
     Draco would do anything to get an invitation to one of those parties.
Draco would do anything to get an invitation to one of those parties. Anything.
It has nothing to do with the Dark Lord, and nothing to do with his father. He
just hates being left out. And so he drops a few hints in the right ears, and
obviously Slughorn hears. (Draco suspects that there is nothing that Slughorn
doesn't hear; his network of child-spies is far more efficient than the efforts
of the best of Voldemort's unmarked Death Eaters.)
This is how Draco comes to be on his knees before Slughorn in the Room of
Requirement. (And he should have known Slughorn knew that secret, too. But
Draco has secrets of his own to keep-dangerous secrets.) Slughorn is the oldest
man Draco has ever done this to, and by far the least pleasant. Draco closes
his eyes while he does it and pictures Blaise Zabini, and Slughorn comes too
quickly and makes him choke. It isn't one of Draco's better efforts, and he
can't keep come from leaking out of the corners of his mouth.
Luckily there are towels on a shelf in a corner. (Draco suspects there are
always towels in the Room of Requirement.) He wipes his face, trying not to
look too eager about it, and wonders if he should practice by killing Slughorn.
Would the Room provide a satisfactory method of disposal? The old man has a
dreamy, satisfied expression. Draco finds it mildly revolting. "Look," he says,
"Can I come to the next one or not? I'm going to be late for Dark Arts if I
don't hurry."
"Oh, Mr. Malfoy." Slughorn smiles, like he's forgotten whom the mouth he's just
been fucking belonged to. "I suppose so. At least you're more skilled than your
father ever was."
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