"A Year of Unwanted Intimacy"

The night that Draco had mentioned had finally arrived, and Harry had been dreading it all day. As soon as dinner was over, Draco had started making preparations, inviting a string of people back to their dorm room. Harry had tried to avoid the whole thing, but it seemed impossible to escape the sound of laughter and music coming from the other side of the thin walls. As the hours went by, the noise only grew louder, and Harry could hear the unmistakable sounds of, well, sex. He felt his face burning with embarrassment and annoyance, and he couldn't help but wonder how Draco was managing to have so much...fun. It seemed that Draco was taking his "orientation" very seriously, and Harry was the unwilling witness to his exploits. Every few minutes, the door to their dorm room would open, and another person would slip in or out. Harry tried to focus on his book, but it was no use. The sounds were just too much. By the time the night wore on, Harry was seething. He had always thought of himself as a fairly open-minded person, but this was just too much. He couldn't believe that Draco was being so brazen, so... loud. As he lay in bed, trying to tune out the sounds of Draco's activities, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of disgust. He had always thought of Draco as a rival, someone to be beaten, but this...this was just wrong. The door to their dorm room opened again, and Harry heard Draco's voice, low and husky, as he said goodbye to his latest visitor. Harry felt a surge of anger, and he threw off his covers, storming over to Draco's bed. "Can you please keep it down?" Harry demanded, trying to keep his voice low. "Some of us are trying to sleep." Draco looked up at him, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "Oh, Potter, you're so uptight," he said, snuggling back under the covers. "Lighten up, would you?" Harry's face burned with anger. "You're not even trying to be discreet," he spat. "You're being deliberately loud, aren't you?" Draco shrugged, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Maybe a little," he said. "But I'm not going to stop having sex just because it makes you uncomfortable, Potter. You can just deal with it." Harry felt his anger boiling over, and for a moment, he thought he might actually lose his temper. But then, he took a deep breath, and turned on his heel, stalking back to his own bed. As he lay there, trying to calm down, Harry couldn't help but wonder what the rest of the year was going to be like. Was he really going to have to put up with Draco's antics all year? The thought was depressing, to say the least. The next morning, Harry woke up feeling groggy and irritable. He stumbled out of bed, and staggered to the bathroom, where he found a note on the mirror, written in Draco's neat handwriting. "Morning, Potter," it read. "I hope you're feeling better. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to move your stuff out of the room. Blake is moving in, and I need the space." Harry's eyes widened in outrage as he read the note. Was Draco serious? Was he really going to turn their dorm room into some kind of...playpen? Harry felt a surge of anger, and he crumpled the note in his hand, wondering what he was going to do. One thing was for sure: he was not going to make it easy for Draco.