The Slytherins- as many as were willing to- were crowded in the common room, stood around a few crates' worth of fire whiskeys (butterbeers for the young 'uns). Hushed whispers and murmured conversations filled the room.

Pansy and Blaise stepped forward. Silence fell over the group. "We have gathered you here tonight to play a- a game, of sorts," Blaise began. "It's a drinking game, as we announced when we asked you all to gather, so we'd just like all of your consent so no one can accuse us of forcing you to do underage drinking or alcohol poisoning or anything like that."

The group nodded; one person (perhaps a third year?) stepped forward. "What makes you assume we'd drink so much we'd get alcohol poisoning?" they asked.

A wicked smirk came upon Pansy's face. "Well, this is where it gets interesting. See, the game revolves around our beloved Draco here-" she pulled him from the edge of the clearing, where he'd been lurking on the fringes of the crowd, and to her side, where he was met with cheers and amicable groans- "and his well-known crush on one Harry James Potter."

Immediately, Draco began to protest, but his voice was swallowed up by the unbelievable loud reaction from the crowd- for the most part, just one big, unanimous groan. Not at Harry Potter himself, no; at the mention of Draco being the one to talk about him.

Even the few firsties gathered, who had only been attending Hogwarts for a couple of months, groaned with the older students, far more accustomed to Draco and how he could drone and whinge and whine and moan on and on and on about Saint bloody Potter for hours on end.

But, yes; the Slytherins were well-accustomed to Draco's ways. Even when their noises of unintelligible I'm-done-with-him finished, Draco was still protesting that he was NOT in love with Potter, how could you even insinuate such a thing Pansy, I thought I was your friend- and that brought on another round of groans, obviously.

Pansy eventually took pity on the group. "Alright, darling, shut up now. Yes, this game is called "We Will Actually Die of Alcohol Poisoning Before Draco Admits his Crush on Potter", or "W.W.A.D.o.A.P.B.D.A.h.C.o.P" to keep it a secret when talked about with others present. The only rules of the game are that every time Draco mentions our beloved Lord and Saviour, every person playing the game who is within earshot of the conversation has to take a shot. The game will last until midnight. Any questions?"

"Yeah, how do we win?"

"Good question. Uhh... Blaise?"

"Well, considering how I think this will go... How about the standard "Last Man Standing" type thing? If you show up tomorrow at breakfast without alcohol poisoning, you win. Sound good?" "Brilliant, Blaise. Other questions? Yes, you, with the freckles."

"Whadda we get if we win?"

"Bragging rights. Until the next time we play this game. Proof you have a high alcohol tolerance. This'll probably be the biggest drinking event of a single house in Hogwarts history, so you'll get your name down in the Student Rumours' history book, too. Bragging rights forever as the first victor of W.W.A.D.o.A.P.B.D.A.h.C.o.P. Any other questions? No, Draco, you don't get to say anything. Right then, that's it. This is your last chance to back out. Everyone staying?" Nobody moved.

"Good. You all need to come get a bottle and a shot glass, and then the game starts as soon as you leave the room. Blaise and I have put up special ward-type bits of magic; if you consented to the rules when we asked earlier, you'll have to take a shot from your drink. Your personal shot glass won't go away until you do, and it's expanded so that if you don't do a shot, you just have to do more later. Your bottle is directly connected to barrels at Hogsmeade, so don't worry about refills. The bottle also won't pour unless you've actually heard Draco talking about Potter. Don't ask; it's all a bit complicated and Draco actually did all the work without knowing what he was doing it for while Blaise and I listened."

"Pansy! That's what that was for! I'm going to strangle you- no, really- come here, you-"

"No, no, no. Sit down Draco. Right, everyone happy? Game starts when you leave. Ready, get set, go! And may the best Slytherin win."

The next morning, the Golden trio walked into the Great Hall happy as usual. Ron and Harry were discussing Quidditch tactics while Hermione read her newest book- something about a cupboard and a secret world.

Harry had had enough of cupboards before he was even at Hogwarts, let alone now. He certainly wouldn't be reading books about them, no matter what is inside. From his experience, it was just dust and spiderwebs galore, anyway. It wasn't until they'd seated themselves as they usually did- Ron and Harry sat facing the far side of the Hall, the Ravenclaw and Slytherin Tables, with Hermione opposite them facing the Hufflepuff table that Harry even noticed anything was wrong. "Guys, does it seem- quieter than usual?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, I thought so too, but I wasn't sure... Are there a lot of people off? We're in winter now, so maybe it's a cold..." Ron replied.

"Oh. Guys, you won't believe this. It's actually Malfoy this time." Harry was delighted. It was never Malfoy (apart from sixth year), but now it had to be!

"Oh, Harry, we've been over this. It's not, and you need to stop this obsession-"

"No, Hermione, I think he's right."

"Oh, Ronald, not you too-"

"'Mione. Look at the Slytherin table."
Hermione turned around. "Oh my god. It actually is Malfoy."

And it was.

For sat there at the Slytherin table, facing the rest of the Hall, was Draco Malfoy. But it was just Draco Malfoy. The rest of the table was entirely empty. He saw them looking his way, obviously at him (there was no one else to look at) sneered, and muttered something about it being "all bloody Potter's fault", audible even two tables over.

Harry frowned, and was about to shout something scathing back at Malfoy when two odd things happened all at once. The Great Hall door burst open, and Madame Pomfrey charged in, hands on her hips and saying, "Never in my life, Severus, never once seen such a terrible show. All but one! All but one of your students in my hospital wing, with alcohol poisoning! How did they even get enough alcohol to all get sick?!"

As she was saying this, Snape (who had groaned as Malfoy had muttered that everything was Harry's fault) looked at Madame Pomfrey, Harry, and then stared at Draco as he took up his very own- was that a shot glass?!- and- oh, Merlin.

Well, that set Madame Pomfrey off. She started berating Snape (who looked already hungover and drunk, and had his hands over his ears to block out the noise) for such terrible manners and terrible control of his students, and then- Pansy, Blaise and about fifteen other Slytherins came wobbling into the great hall, giggling and crying and heading in the general direction of Malfoy. They were warbling a- a song?

"Draco, Draco, wake up and seeeeeeeeee
You and Potter were just meant to beeeeeeeee

You won't shut up about him

Please just get over yourself And kiss 'im

Pleaaaaseeee

We're tired of your cheesiness

Please just kiss him and shut up." And, as one, they turned and left the hall, still reprising their little song and laughing drunkenly, although one stopped on the way out to vomit.

Draco had turned red, Snape was- was he laughing? he looked to be in pain- and Harry was confused.

Draco felt the eyes of every person in the Great Hall on him; he stood and walked out of the Hall with as much dignity as he could muster, carefully avoiding the sick. He let the doors close behind him, and with a swish of his robes, he was off to the Slytherin dorm rooms, hopefully where Death would take pity on him and just kill him.