“Looks right. What do you think?” Draco hovered over Blaise’s shoulder in gleeful anticipation.

“I think I’ve got it. Took eight attempts before this, but now we have one maximum strength, short term potion for instant lust!” Blaise stoppered the finished mixture and grabbed the final instruments for their newest act of mayhem.

Draco watched curiously. “What are those, and how do they work again?”

“It’s a Muggle thing. They’re called balloons, and they expand without breaking, unless they’re full to capacity and impact against something…or someone.” Blaise chuckled. “Opens up all kinds of possibilities, doesn’t it?”

“Hmmph. If you say so, but you know I can’t stand Muggles and their nonsense. I’ll take your word that these will work.”

Blaise poured one third of the contents of the potion into one balloon, then repeated the process twice more while he answered.

“Get over it, Dray. You know no one really gives a kneazle’s arse about Muggles except you. Have done with it already. Besides, they provided the balloons, and we provided the potion. You, Crabbe and Goyle will take your stations at the appointed hour…and let the chips fall where they may!”

Draco sniffed petulantly. “Well, I suppose they have their uses, but I’m vexed to figure what those might be. So, back to the point…this will explode wherever I throw it and soak those nearby in the potion, induce wild lust within a few minutes, and leave them pawing and poking at one another until it wears off in half an hour. Then, assuming they’re still at it, they snap out of it and suddenly realize what they’re doing, and freak out completely! Sound right?”

Blaise nodded. “Perfect. Here’s the other two balloons. Give them to Crabbe and Goyle and head out…and be careful! Spill this on yourself in an empty corridor and you could wind shagging Mrs. Norris! Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah. All in a day’s work. I’ll tell you how it went when I get back!” Draco took the satchel of balloons and headed for the Slytherin common room. Blaise settled back to his experiment notes and scanned the paperwork carefully. If this was a success, he might be wallowing in Galleons like the Malfoys before he even left school!

------------------------------------------

Draco strolled down the hall furtively. Crabbe was safely en route to Hufflepuff’s entry, Goyle was headed for Ravenclaw, and Draco had reserved the signal honor of pranking Gryffindor for himself! He snickered as he climbed the stairs to the tower. Frigid, rigid, precious and pure Gryffindor was about to have their first orgy, whether they expected it or not. How perfect would it be if Potter himself were in the room when this went off? Rumor had it that Potter was still a virgin, saving himself for some pristine future moment. Oh, to be a fly on the wall when the potion wore off and Potter found himself rutting like a barnyard bull in the first willing orifice that had presented itself! That would be the icing on the cake!

Draco didn’t usually examine his thoughts all that deeply, but if he had, he might have noticed that the image of a naked and rutting Harry Potter lingered in his imagination rather longer than anything else about the prank. Untroubled by that irony, Draco reached the Gryffindor entrance and proceeded to wait with balloon in hand. Sooner or later, someone would open the entrance from the other side…and Draco would have his shot.

Minutes later, Draco heard the grind of stone that clearly heralded someone’s departure from the common room. He cocked his arm and, when the portrait opened, he shouted, “HEADS UP, GRYFFINDORKS,” and lobbed the Lust Bomb (as he had dubbed it) through the entry. It only took a split second before he realized his error, but, frozen in horror, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it!

Harry Potter had been in a hurry to get out that door and into the hall, likely late for something, as always. The balloon didn’t sail into the common room, it simply crashed into Potter’s chest and exploded, drenching Potter and splashing Draco directly in the face!

Harry stopped cold, spluttering with rage, then looked at Draco with eyes that flared with green fire. “WHAT THE HELL! MALFOY! YOU LITTLE…”

“OH, FUCK!” Draco’s eyes bulged at the realization of what had just happened. He had an indeterminate number of minutes to get the hell away from Potter before the unthinkable occurred! If he hurried, he might just find an empty room before he found himself at the mercy of his own glands! He spun on his heel and dashed down the hall to the stairs, hoping the dose that hit was small enough to resist. He needed thirty minutes. Thirty minutes and it would wear off. Until then, he needed to run like hell itself was on his heels!

Potter was fast! Three flights of stairs and a half dozen hairpin turns, and Draco could still hear heavy footfalls and shouted threats behind him. There couldn’t be more than a couple of minutes left before he lost control! Gods, but that prat could run! Draco idly wondered if this was what it felt like to be the Snitch. Then he shoved that thought out of his mind when he realized what happened with Potter and Snitches! He saw a deep alcove ahead and wheeled into it, shoving his way behind an ancient hunk of tasteless statuary for cover.

Not five heartbeats later, Potter tore through the hall with robes flapping. “Malfoy! You’re dead when I catch you! You absolute git! Hear me! Dead!”

Draco grimaced. Potter still sounded pissed. There could be worse things than a horny Potter. The only one that came to mind was a homicidal Potter. Neither of these were joyful scenarios, and the clock was still metaphorically ticking before the potion took over!

Silence. The footfalls had dimmed to nothing. No more shouts. Safe. Probably. Draco sighed with relief. All he had to do was backtrack to a classroom and hide in a closet for a half an hour and he was home free.

The potion seemed to be starting. At least that’s what it felt like, anyway. A very mild euphoria and calm was beginning to creep over him. He’d been in panic mode only seconds ago, and now he felt relaxed, peaceful, self-assured and faintly giddy. ‘Must be the first stage,‘ he thought to himself. He prayed he could keep it together long enough to make it to a classroom. It wouldn’t do to be found in the halls shagging the first willing partner to come along!

Draco crept to the edge of the alcove as quietly as he could, then peeked around the edge. That’s when two hands grabbed him by the arms, and yanked him into the hall, hauling him all the way across and slamming his back into the far wall. When the stars left Draco’s field of vision, two green eyes were boring into him from behind a pair of round glasses.

“Eeeep!” That was all Draco could squeak before he squeezed his eyes shut and felt himself start shaking uncontrollably. Potter’s voice brought him back around a second later.

“Malfoy, you prat! I was going to kill you a minute ago, but right now I...I feel pretty good. I still want an explanation! What did you just hit me with?”

He did SOUND calm, but with Potter, you could never be too sure about anything. Draco was suddenly, almost painfully aware of Potter’s proximity. It was so very, very warm all of a sudden. The both of them had been running like crazy and they both had racing heartbeats and a sheen of perspiration across their faces. Potter’s hands were like vices on his upper arms, holding Draco fast against the wall. He could feel Potter’s ragged breaths against his neck, as well as sensing the unbearable tension hanging between them, and all the while, Potter waited for his answer.

Draco gave in. He slumped in defeat, still pinned against the wall, and half-muttered, half-sobbed his reply. “Lust potion. It was a lust potion. We’re both hit, and it’s already hitting me now. I can feel it. I didn’t mean for it to hit us. I swear it. Honestly. I’m sorry, Potter. Really, really sorry. Just please, please, please let me run before it’s too late! You realize what could happen if you don’t let me go this second, right?”

Silence. The iron grip on his arms relaxed a little.

“Malfoy?” The voice was almost soothingly calm. “Open your eyes. Look at me. I won’t hurt you. Just look at me.”

Draco could feel his own pulse pounding. The scent of Harry Potter was all around him at the moment. Being this close to him made Draco’s head spin. He tried vainly to remember that it was just the potion, but that gentle voice gnawed away at the last of his reserve.

Draco opened his eyes, still trembling in spite of the weird euphoric calm that had come over him. Harry Potter looked bloody gorgeous up close. It felt like Draco’s eyes had opened properly for the first time. The gangly little boy of seven years ago had grown into a tall, lean and handsome wizard. His shoulders were slightly broader than Draco’s, and they were within an inch of the same height. It was so achingly easy to look into those weirdly wise green eyes and just lose himself forever.

Desire flared in Draco’s belly. It was an almost sickening, twisting sensation, not entirely unlike nausea, but far less frightening. What broke the last shred of his resistance in his struggling mind, was Potter’s smile. Potter never smiled at him. His eyes were never wide and guileless when Draco was near. They were always slitted, taut with suspicion and anger. Merlin, had he always wanted to see a smile like this?

Then those iron hands let go their grip and moved up to his neck, thumbs on either side, just beneath the line of his jaw. The notion of being strangled never occurred to him, given that that touch was so soft that it was almost no more than a faint caress. They guided his head ever so slowly back and just a little to the left, while Potter moved closer than ever. And then they were kissing.

Draco let his eyes shut as the soft lips of his favorite rival brushed against his own. He was so hyper-aware of everything. Potter’s chest so close against him that he could feel both their hearts beating. The droplet of sweat that dripped onto his collar as their mouths fumbled together. The faint hint of peppermint on Harry’s breath. The way his own eyelash fluttered against Harry’s cheek. Most of all, those soft lips that parted and shifted so subtly as they moved against his own.

Draco felt himself melting, from his knees right to his mind. His hands were moving almost of their own volition, and he wasn’t sure of exactly when they wound up tangled in that wonderfully messy black hair, demanding that that glorious kiss last as long as possible. A streak of boldness crept through him, and he let his tongue snake out for one well-timed second, slipping into Harry’s mouth to brush against the velvet of his tongue.

Harry stiffened and paused. Draco wanted to scream, wanted to cry out. Anything, anything but stopping now! Then, arms were around his waist and that subtle mouth was back where it belonged. All worries floated away on a tide of pleasure he hadn’t even imagined was possible.

In minutes, they had drifted, wordlessly, into the cool of the alcove, snogging as heavily and desperately as they could manage while still in motion. There was no discussion about it. At some point, they became cognizant of the matching erections trapped beneath cruel, imprisoning clothes, and grinding hard into both of their hipbones.

There was another pause, this one utterly mutual, as they tore themselves away from each other’s reddened necks and swollen lips, and let a flicker of understanding pass between them. Then their hands were frantically fumbling with buttons and belts, zippers and ties. The time it took to divest themselves of clothing was intolerably long, and when they stood, naked and flushed, staring at each other in the cool silence of the alcove, it was magical in a way that had nothing to do with incantations or wands.

They connected again, this time just holding each other closely, heads at rest on each other shoulders, savoring the wondrous sensation of their naked bodies flush against each other. Draco could feel the tiny dab of wetness from Potter’s weeping cock against his stomach. The scent of sweat and the mingling musk of their own naked bodies filled the alcove. Draco swam in it, breathed it deep, and grew bold again.

His tongue labored its way down Harry’s collarbone, while his hands slithered down Harry’s back. Potter slumped against the wall with a moan when Draco’s tongue began to taunt his nipples. And Draco kept moving lower, and lower, peppering every part of Harry’s chest and stomach with kisses along the way...until, at long last, he was on his knees before the bobbing and quivering evidence of Harry’s arousal.

He gave Harry’s leaking cock a gentle caress. He let himself feel its weight and heat in his palm. Then Draco gave the briefest squeeze and a gentle pull. Harry’s legs quivered, and Draco looked up at the gasping youth above him. Those green eyes were almost dark with pleasure, this time half-slitted from naked lust and awe, not anger. Draco smirked wickedly, winked, and then indulged himself.

Potter’s cock was only a little thicker than Draco’s, though Draco’s was perhaps a bit longer. It was surprising how badly he wanted all of it in him, and he made that thought a reality in the first second after Potter’s cock crossed his lips. Draco buried his face in the soft muss of fur in Harry’s crotch, letting his chin nuzzle Harry’s balls for just a few seconds…and then he slid back just enough to let himself have some air…and then he did it again…and again.

Harry was openly panting, muttering, and occasionally squeaking with pleasure. A weird satisfaction crept through Draco while he pressed his face into Potter’s groin, devouring that stiffened length of flesh over and over again. He felt powerful. He felt good! At this moment, more so than ever before, he ruled Harry Potter’s entire universe. Like a benevolent despot, Draco could command utter silence, obedience and gratitude from where he knelt. With a change of pace, or a swirl of his tongue, he could transform the Boy Who Lived into a mindless and gibbering slave to pleasure. Why he’d resisted this, he could no longer imagine.

Draco felt a growing tension in Potter’s straining thighs, and pulled himself away to stand up. Poor Harry looked crestfallen; so close to the edge, and then denied the final release for his aching need! Draco knew without doubt what he wanted from Harry. He never spoke a word. He just looked into those pleading green eyes for a long second, and then he turned to face the wall, placing his palms evenly against the cool stone, and parting his legs, his back ever so slightly arched. This was it. He’d bared his soul. An aching void inside him demanded fulfillment, and he had no desire to fight it any longer.

Amazingly, Potter had just enough mental coherence to mutter a ‘Lubricus’ spell, and Draco whimpered with need when those calloused fingers gently worked the lubricant into his most private place. It wasn’t painful at all, but it was weirdly invasive. No one had ever been inside of him this way. He’d idly toyed with his own slick fingers while wanking, but this…this was something else entirely.

There was a soft, hot pressure behind him, and it remained still for just a second, while Harry leaned in close enough for his breath to feel hot on Draco’s neck.

“I’ve always wanted this. Always. I’ve waited all this time to be with you. You’re the only one I ever wanted, Draco. I love you.”

Draco’s heart leapt and thundered. His head spun. Somewhere deep inside, he knew they were dosed and slaves to a potion’s magic, but at that moment, no words had ever sounded sweeter in his ears than those.

“P-potter…Harry. I always wanted you. I know I just hated what I thought I couldn’t have. I never…thought that…Merlin, I need you. I want you in me. No one else. Please.” Draco’s voice trailed to a hoarse whisper. “Please…make love to me. I need you...now.”

A single kiss behind his ear, a tiny bite across his collarbone, and then a fine hand was on his hip, the other one cautiously guiding the cock poised at Draco’s entrance. The pressure built, and Draco pushed out and back, as hungry this way as he had been before. There was a brief and brilliant flash of pain, and Harry paused, stroking Draco’s back and running fingers through his hair. Draco breathed deep and slow, then experimented with this new situation, wriggling his hips just a little, pulling forward just a hair, then pushing back. As the lubricant worked its magic, and his own body adapted to the sudden intrusion, he slowly relaxed and let Harry further into his body.

Potter began to move again, slow and sure. Harry’s hands were on Draco’s hips once more, this time with his thumbs splayed and pulling Draco’s cheeks a little further apart. Oddly, it made the passage suddenly easier, and before long, Draco felt the warmth and fur of Harry’s balls against the back of his own. He’d done it! Harry Potter was fused with him, bound to him, caught in the spider’s web of Draco’s need; finally, utterly, and completely Draco’s own.

Harry was experimenting as well, shifting his hips, changing angles, trying stronger strokes. He was watching Draco’s responses; noting every small shift of muscle, mapping the sounds that slipped from Draco’s mouth, and learning as he searched for the way to best please his lover. Draco’s back tensed when a sudden jab was ill-timed or poorly placed, but it arched like a cat, while Draco moaned softly and with growing need, whenever Harry struck a certain place inside him.

“There!” Draco found his voice, and though his vision swam and his eyes were glazed with pleasure, he managed to croon encouragement. “Harry…that…thassit… uhh…there. Sooo gooood. Mmmmm…don’…don’t stop. Har…harder. F-faster, Harry. Ohhh. Ahhhh! Merlin, please! FUCK YES! Fuck me! Fuck me, Harry. Fuck ME! I love you, I love you, just like this, so much, YES!”

Words spilled from Draco’s tongue like a Veritaserum confession. Harry’s ears lapped up each one like candy, and he heeded every request. Clutching Draco’s hips, Harry plunged hard and fast into the lithe body in front of him, desperately trying to stem the surging tide that was building fast within him. Draco’s ranting speech became ragged and more frantic still, until, hands still on the wall, Draco’s bouncing cock erupted. With an ear splitting wail of wild release, Draco striped the wall in front of him with his own come, shoulders shaking, almost sobbing with relief.

That was more than Harry could bear. His eyes rolled back when his groin surged, and a shock like lightning tore through him while he came violently, still thrusting, while his eyes started to tear from the overwhelming rush of pure ecstasy that carried his mind away. He collapsed forward against Draco, still rooted in Draco’s soft arse, and nuzzled against Draco’s neck as they heaved and panted, sweat soaked, exhausted, and dizzy.

They slid to the floor almost as one, Harry slowly withdrawing from Draco’s body, as they curled into the pile of their own discarded clothes. As soon as they were face to face again, they kissed with a familiarity and sincerity that nearly cried out gratitude instead of lust, while muttered and whispered kindnesses passed between them.

Eventually, Draco knew that the time the potion allotted must have run out. He guessed it may have been a half hour or more, but he was slowly growing aware of his own stark terror at what had just happened. It wasn’t the act itself that was so frightening. It was the fact that he was curled in Potter’s arms, in a pile of their discarded clothes, and he DIDN’T WANT TO LEAVE. His apprehension was growing by the second. Any minute now, Potter might snap out of his stupor and kill Draco on general principle! Worse yet, some tiny spot in Draco’s psyche had the outrageous gall to hint that another go round might be fun! Panic was on the edge of breaking out, and Potter’s hand had just stopped stroking his hair! Draco was almost on the edge of bolting from the alcove starkers, when Harry spoke.

“Draco. The potion wore off about ten minutes ago. Don’t say anything. You don’t have to. This is a little strange for me, too, but I want you to listen to one thing, and think about it carefully. Okay?”

From his position in front of Harry, without looking back (since he couldn’t bear to look in those eyes right now), Draco nodded once.

Harry continued. “Do you remember what I said to you?” Draco nodded again, closing his eyes and flushing with embarrassment.

“Draco. I’m not mad about the potion. The things I said to you were true. I’m fine now, and I wouldn’t change what we just did. I know you may have some problems with that, and that’s okay. I won’t tell anyone what happened here, and I won’t give you hell about it. All I ask is that, after you’ve had time to think about this…talk to me. Can you do that?”

Draco nodded and sat up quietly. He had to say something…but what?

“Okay. I…I just need a little time to work this out. Ha…Potter?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about the potion prank. It was a stupid thing to do to anyone. I didn’t want this…well…never mind…I gotta go.”

Harry sighed and began to pull his clothes from the pile, looking rather regretful.

Draco felt a little more nerve once his clothes were most of the way on, and he fished around for a decent quip.

“Smile, Potter. At least act like you just had the best shag of your life.”

Harry managed a small smirk, then leaned forward very suddenly and kissed Draco on the cheek. Draco stepped back, a little panicked by that level of intimacy while not under the influence of magic, and Harry stepped away respectfully.

“I just did. You do know that, right? That was the first, and the best.“

Harry was so damned matter of fact about it. Draco tried to play it cool. “Well, naturally, since I was involved, it would almost have to be!”

A flicker of annoyance crossed Harry’s face, and Draco felt almost sick inside. Definitely time for a change of topic.

“I have to go. I need to think…a lot. I’ll see you tomorrow. We can talk after dinner. Owlery. Seven o’ clock sound good?”

Potter looked relieved and agreed. A few more nervous comment while they got their ties right, and they parted amicably enough. Draco headed down to Slytherin, Harry headed up to Gryffindor, neither of them happy with the direction they were going.

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Draco returned to Slytherin’s common room with cheeks flushed and hair only slightly mussed. His arse was killing him too, but at least no one could see that! Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle were all waiting for him when he stepped into the room.

Blaise butted in first. “Draco! What the hell happened, you should have been back here almost an hour ago! Did they catch you?”

“No…nothing like that. I did have to run like hell to get away, though. It was necessary to hide for a bit until the hunt died down.” Draco lied as glibly as ever, and the others seemed to be buying it.

“I know you must be pissed with me right now, and I just want you to know that I’m really, really sorry!” Blaise seemed genuinely apologetic, and a little nervous besides.

“What the fuck are you on about? Sorry? For what? Talk, Zabini!”

“You know! The potion failure. You didn’t stay long enough to see the results, did you? I was trying to start another batch when Goyle came back and told me it wiped out completely. Then Crabbe showed up and told me the same. Apparently the only side effects were mild euphoria and a sense of calm. I back-checked everything, and the color was right, but the consistency may have been off. I think the powdered Bicorn horn spoiled before we got to it or something. Threw the whole mix off. I figured you knew already. So what did happen when you threw it?”

Draco listened in horror. “What…do…you…mean…it…didn’t…work!”

“I mean just that. Total failure. Whole potion was a wash. The Ravenclaws just sank into deep thought, no surprise there, and the Hufflepuffs just stared at their navels and giggled a bit. I’m starting over from scratch.”

Draco looked at Crabbe, then Goyle, but they just nodded their heads in agreement with Blaise. Zabini was going to say something, but Draco cut him off.

“I’m going to my room. Do not disturb me. If I hear a knock or a peep before I open my door, everyone here today will suffer an Unforgiveable. Am I clear?”

Three nods later, Draco left and slammed the door to his room. Potter wasn’t doped. Neither of them were. No potion. No fucking potion. No magic lust. NOTHING! He just gave Harry Potter…his…his (virgin!) ass because…because he wanted to…desperately! Potter wasn’t crazy when he said those things. He meant it all. He wasn’t crazed by potion inspired need, he was (gulp!) sincere.

Draco curled into his bed, buried his head under a mountain of pillows, and thought about what tomorrow would bring.

--------------------------------------------


TWO WEEKS LATER:

“Thanks, Zabini. I really mean that. I’ll back your venture one hundred percent. The paperwork is signed, and you’ll have a Gringotts Bank account in the name of your enterprise by the end of the week.”

“Your welcome, Potter. My Potion of Introspection will be patented by the Ministry by next month. Wizarding analysts, St. Mungo’s, meditation and trance experts...they’re all sending me pre-booked owl orders for regular shipments. I guess a potion that makes a person see their innermost thoughts and feelings more clearly really does have a market, doesn’t it?”

Potter smiled. “Think we should ever tell Draco what that potion really does?”

“HA! You aren’t half as Slytherin as you think you are, if you even contemplate doing that for at least another year or two. Plus, I need time to find an Unplottable location before you do anything that foolish! Draco may be crazy about you, and I know you two are happy, but he’ll have your balls on a stick if you tell him we set him up as a test subject and it was your plan.”

“Yeah, yeah. You were the one who was sick of him griping about me all day for seven years!”

“He still talks about you, but now he just glows when he does it. It’s only marginally less sickening than before. Really, anyone who couldn’t tell he was obsessed with you since first year would have to be blind as a bat, dumb as a post and deaf as a stone! I just facilitated this little matchmaking, so don’t even think of shifting the blame to me!”

“Nonetheless, I owe you one. I never thought he’d get over his pride and go out with me, much less declare himself my boyfriend after one day. I’ve never been this happy, or this exhausted, in my entire life. When I say thanks, I mean it.” Harry stuck out his hand.

Blaise took that hand and shook it firmly. He looked at the Boy Who Lived, realized he was almost jealous of Draco for a moment, then resigned himself to not getting in the way of other people's happiness.

Potter was on his way out the door when Blaise spoke up again.

“Potter?”

“Yeah?”

“He’s been a good friend. Take care of him, will you? He’s a tough, little bitch on the outside, but he needs you more than he says. Got it?”

“Don’t worry. Somehow, I think things are going to work out just fine…and…I’ll always take care of him. After all, I need him that bad, too.”

Blaise sighed with relief, and strolled off to Hogsmeade. He had several meetings with future purchasers to attend. He whistled to himself as he strolled down the hall and onto the grounds. He looked at the azure sky above him as he walked and thought, ‘Malfoy millions, here I come!’


FIN