Harry Potter Hogwarts Hijinks

DISCLAIMER

The following text is copyrighted by the author, and may not be re-posted nor used for any purpose without express written permission. The text includes instances of sexual encounters between boys of similar ages. If that subject material is illegal or inappropriate for you to be reading, please find something else to read.

If you would like to donate to Nifty, so that this site may be maintained, here is their link: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html.

I do invite feedback, which may be addressed to CyberBowl@protonmail.com. I will try to reply to all mail.

Please, enjoy. + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

FOREWORD

Dearest Reader...

This story is set in the world of Harry Potter and was written before the book series was completed, so please ignore any inconsistencies with later-established canon. I do not own these characters.

After getting some lovely feedback on my first Harry/Draco slashfic, I wanted to try my hand at something lengthier, a LOT sexier, and with a bit of an actual plot.

This tale references the events of "Harry Potter and the Cauldron of Love," which you can find here: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/celebrity/harry-potter-and-the-cauldron-of-love

It's not necessary for you to have read that story before reading this one, but I think you might consider it a lovely appetizer before digging into the main course here!

Either way, enjoy!

TAGS: Explicit language, Sexual content (m/m, similar age range) TRIGGER WARNINGS: incest

HARRY POTTER AND THE SECRET SCROLL by CyberBowl

CHAPTER 1: Detention

"This is all your bloody fault, Potter!"

Draco Malfoy scowled at his nemesis, as they finished packing up the cleaning supplies. "Every detention I've ever HAD has been because of you, you twat! A Malfoy doing manual labor? It's unheard of!"

Harry Potter scowled back. "Bugger off, Malfoy! If you could mind your own bloody business, once in a while, neither of us would be here!"

"Leave it to Everybody's Hero to defend that oaf, Longbottom. Don't deny knowing his potion was going to be a disaster! He's blown up three laboratory tables this year alone!" Malfoy had him there.

"Well, you didn't have to make him cry, Malfoy. I swear to Merlin, you are the most heartless bastard I've ever met. And I live with the bloody Dursleys! You deserved that mouse!" Draco put his hand up to his swollen, purple eye, and snarled. Professor Snape had refused to let Draco have Madam Pomfrey tend to it, until after the Potions-classroom floor was spotless.

"I'll give you a mouse, you tit! I'll give you a bloody RAT!!!" Draco dropped the scrub brush he was holding, and lunged at Harry, but he caught the toe of his shoe on the hem of his robes. He fell into Harry, and they both went down with a loud thud, and an even louder crack.

"Good!" cried Draco. "I hope I broke your fucking arm, Potter!" Harry shoved him away.

"It wasn't my arm, you idiot. We broke a floorboard."

Harry rolled over, and, sure enough, one of the old floorboards was cracked through. Draco forgot all about his anger toward Potter. All he could think of was Snape's anger. Snape was very possessive, when it came to his classroom. Draco knew that once Snape saw the broken board, he'd be serving detention, for the rest of the term. He snapped at Harry, in a scornful tone, but Harry could see the desperation in his eyes. "Well, Potter. You've got your wand. Fix it!"

"So do you. You fix it!"

"I don't know any servants' spells, Potter. Fix the bloody thing before Snape sees it!"

"I can fix my glasses, Malfoy. I don't know how to fix a floorboard."

"Surely, you must know the Muggle way?"

"Malfoy, if my uncle had let me anywhere near a hammer, I'd have been in a Muggle prison, by the time I was five." Harry was in no hurry to aid Draco in any way, but he knew Snape wouldn't take this apparent case of vandalism lightly. He'd find a way to blame this on Harry, regardless of the facts. On top of that, there was a good bet that he'd include Draco in the punishment, just for spite. He, reluctantly, had to acknowledge that he and Malfoy were in this together. He sighed.

"Do something!"

"Shut it, and let me think, Malfoy!" He looked down at the splintered floorboard, and shook his head. "This can't be fixed. It'll have to be replaced."

"And, where do you suppose we'll find a thousand-year-old plank, Potter? A new board would be spotted, immediately."

"I know. I know. Maybe, if we pull it up, level—"

Draco beamed. "It'll be someone else's problem! Brilliant! There's some Slytherin in you after all, Potter!"

"Only when you're getting on my nerves, Malfoy!" he retorted. "Give me your shoestrings."

"What? Why?"

"We can thread them underneath the board, and pull it back up."

"Use your own!"

"Mine are a bit worn, Malfoy. They'll snap. I don't replace them, on a weekly basis, like some people I could mention." Harry had him there. Draco grumbled, as he sat on the floor, to unlace his shoes. "Besides, you're going to help. Maybe, a little manual labor would serve to teach you how to show your servants some respect. I'm sure Dobby would appreciate the irony." Draco snarled at the mention of his family's former house elf. Draco removed his shoestrings, and passed one to Harry.

"We have to pull each side of the board up, at the same time, so that the splinters can mesh back, together. It's not going to be easy."

"I understand the concept, Potter. It's not Arithmancy, you know!"

The two young wizards knelt opposite each other, straddling the broken board. They managed to avoid bumping heads, but, just barely. There was silence, as they delicately tried to thread their respective strings under the board. Something caught Harry's eye.

"Half a minute, Malfoy. There's something here."

Draco's mercenary nature was instantly piqued. "What is it?"

Harry slid his hand into the opening created by the broken board, and then stretched two fingers to grasp—

"It's a parchment!" Harry gently pulled the yellowed scroll from its hiding place, hoping not to tear it. Once it was free, they could see it was tied with a silver ribbon. Harry blew the dust off the scroll, and began trying to untie the ribbon.

Draco was already impatient. "Open it, Potter! What is it?"

"It's probably Snape's diary. He fantasizes about buggering you, in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, you know."

"Sod off, Potter. That's Dumbledore's fantasy about you! Open the bloody thing!"

"I can't. I think the knot is charmed. It won't loosen, and it won't slide off."

"Oh, give me that!" Draco reached to snatch the scroll from Harry. The instant he touched it, the silver ribbon disappeared, in a sparkly rainbow of light. Both boys were startled, and the scroll dropped to the floor. They both stared at it. When Draco gathered himself, he scooped up the scroll. "Maybe only a Slytherin could open it."

"That sounds like Snape. What does it say?"

Draco unrolled the scroll. With a puzzled look, he turned the parchment around, to examine its reverse. "It's blank. There's nothing here."

Harry reached for the parchment. "Maybe the parchment's charmed, too. Let me see." As Harry touched the parchment, another burst of silvery-rainbow light burst forth from the page. When the light had cleared, the following verses were visible on the parchment:

Son of Malfoy! Son of Potter!

Hatred doesn't get much hotter!

This magic parchment you have found,

To read together, you are bound.

Infants when this scroll we writ,

Now, both young men, ably fit.

Put aside your hateful ways,

And you'll be granted joyous days.

But, who are we? What are our names?

One is Lucius; one is James.

At this, both boys looked up from the scroll, and at each other. "Our fathers!" gasped Harry.

"What the bloody hell? Keep reading!" They did.

Our friend, Sybil, saw the signs:

Hatred in our family lines.

We can't abide—you must be friends,

So, with this scroll, the hatred ends.

The two of you must, now, draw nigh,

If the Dark Lord is to die.

Best of Slytherin! Gryffindor's Joy!

Each, a frightened wizard boy.

Only if you are as one,

May darkest evil be undone.

Eat your pride, despite the cost,

Else, all the Wizard world is lost.

Son of Potter! Heed this well!

Your father has these words to tell:

Though you, my son, are barely born,

One day, you'll feel naught but scorn

For the lad, beside you now.

You must find a way somehow,

To change the hawk into a dove—

Transform your hatred into love.

Only with a loving heart,

May a happy ending start.

Forgiveness is the only key

To the Door of What-Must-Be.

This scroll contains the key you'll need,

To face the Dark Lord's Final Deed.

Unlock your heart! Unlock the rhymes,

If you'd survive the darkest times.

At this point, it was obvious that the next passage was written by a different hand. Draco recognized it immediately.

Son of Malfoy! To me, hark!

The path I tread may, soon, be dark!

Through your life, though I reject you,

All I do is to protect you.

I speak the truth, so, hear me well,

Or, face a doom to rival Hell.

My own dark fate is carv'd in stone;

I pray you, let me go alone.

Melt the ice around your heart,

And let some tenderness depart,

Like an owl, to Potter's arms,

If you would try to read these charms.

While I do adore your mother,

I love James—more than a brother.

We share our bodies, hot as flame,

And, you, our sons, must do the same.

If the Final Goal you'd fashion,

You, too, must, discover passion.

To make you strong, I bred your scorn,

Yet, hatred, now, must be forsworn.

You must unlock your fathers' verses,

Else, face The Dark One's vilest curses.

The serpent learns to love the lion,

Or, both Houses lose a scion.

Choose to live, and, to proceed,

A loving kiss is all you'll need.

Below the couplets, the parchment was signed: Lucius Malfoy and James Potter.

"A kiss?" spat Draco, disgustedly. "Kiss YOU, Potter? I'd rather let Snape roger me."

Harry ignored the insult. "This sounds serious, Malfoy. Our fathers wrote this parchment when we were babies!"

"Based on a prediction by Sybil Trelawney! She's DAFT, Potter!"

"Perhaps now, but maybe not always. Both our fathers believed her enough to create a magicked scroll that only the two of us could read, together. We've got to take it seriously."

Draco was not swayed. "I hate you, Potter. You hate me. A kiss? Ridiculous!"

"First of all, Malfoy, I didn't start out to hate anybody. You do vicious and hateful things. How was I supposed to feel about you? But, now that I know your father RAISED you to be a wanker, I can honestly forgive you—if you'll behave yourself!"

Draco sneered. "This is absurd! My father and your father? Shagging? Rot!" But, somewhere down deep in the pit of his stomach, Draco suspected that it wasn't. He knew that his father was not a trusting soul. He'd come from a well-off wizarding family that had kept a keen eye on every Knut it had ever earned. There was no way that Lucius Malfoy would ever let anyone get away with forging his name on a cheque, so he had Dumbledore teach him how to make his handwriting impossible to forge, during his third year at Hogwarts, long before he even had his own account. His father had subsequently boasted about that fact to Draco, on numerous occasions. Draco couldn't know about the first half of the document, of course, but the second part was definitely written by Lucius Malfoy. "A kiss, Potter?" he sulked.

"A kiss or death," said Harry. "What's it to be?"

"I'm thinking!" Draco snapped. "Bloody hell!" he sighed, resigned to the inevitable. He leaned over and gave Harry a brief peck on the lips, and backed away quickly. Nothing happened. "Dammit, Potter! I told you it was dragonshite!"

"It says 'loving kiss,' Malfoy. Like this." Harry leaned in. Draco started to recoil, but stopped, as Harry took his slender face, gently, in his hands. Harry brushed his lips, softly, against Draco's, until Draco started to relax. When he did, his lips parted, slightly, and Harry pulled him a little closer, while letting his tongue taste Draco's lips.

It was as if Harry's innate tenderness flowed into Draco. Draco could feel its sincerity, and, in that instant, he realized that he had been craving such tenderness all his life. He gasped from the shock of the realization, and tears began to fall from his eyes. He reached out to embrace Harry, and pull him closer. He found his tongue, and let it go, to meet Harry's.

Harry could feel, in Draco's grip, how desperately Draco needed to be loved. And, Harry, being Harry, his heart went out to Draco, straightaway. Hatred became understanding. Understanding evoked empathy. Empathy melted into affection. His arms moved to enfold Draco.

They remained in the embrace, stroking each other's hair, as their kiss grew deeper and deeper. Soon, they were lost in the kiss, their minds swimming, in the swirling emotions and sensations. They were so taken, that neither realized that they were both getting hard.

Nor did they notice the multi-colored burst of light.

CHAPTER 2: One Thing at a Time

Draco broke away from the kiss. He crumpled to the floor and began sobbing uncontrollably. Harry knelt beside him. "Malfoy! What is it?"

Draco looked into Harry's eyes. "I—I never knew—" he managed to choke out between sobs.

Harry smiled. "It's okay. It's okay." He cradled Draco's head in his arms.

"Is this what love feels like?" he wondered, wiping his eyes.

"Well, I don't have much experience with it myself, but, yes, I think so."

"I never knew. It felt—" Draco struggled for words. He settled upon "Would you do it again, Potter?"

Harry gave him a playful smile. "Only if you'll call me `Harry.'"

"Harry? Harry. It'll take some getting used to," he admitted. Draco lifted his chin and Harry kissed him again. Their tongues twined together in a sinuous dance. It felt natural. It felt right. Both boys began to feel a stirring in their loins. This time, they were both aware of it. They let the stiffening happen.

They might have shed their clothes then and there, but for the sudden sound of a slimy voice coming from outside the classroom door.

"Mr. Crabbe! Mr. Goyle! Mr. Malfoy is currently serving detention. You'll have to speak to him later. Go... away."

Draco and Harry froze. "Snape," hissed Draco. They scrambled to their feet. Harry grabbed the scroll, and stashed it under his robes, just as the door began to creak open. "What about the floorb—" He looked down at the floor, and was stunned. Harry saw the look on Draco's face, and followed his gaze. He was equally taken aback. The floorboard looked like it had never been broken. They searched each other's face for an explanation, but found none.

"Malfoy." And then, disgustedly, "Potter." He advanced toward them with his singularly creepy, imperious sashay. "Have you finished cleaning the floor?"

Harry scanned the room quickly. He dove for the scrub brush that Draco had dropped earlier. "Yes, Professor."

Snape surveyed the room. His customarily sour expression was now tinged with frustration, as he could find no fault with the job. That had never been known to stop Snape, however. There was one more twist in that knife yet. "Ten points from Gryffindor for striking a fellow student. Five points from Slytherin for being too clumsy to evade the fist of a Gryffindor." Harry and Draco both felt like calling Snape a right prick at that moment, but they both wanted to get out of that classroom even more, so they held their tongues. "Get out."

They didn't need to be told twice. They each grabbed an armload of mops and brushes and buckets, looked once more upon the scowling-gargoyle face of Severus Snape, and made a hasty exit. Once outside the door, they began to run toward Filch's domain in order to return the supplies.

"What happened to the floor?" Malfoy panted as they ran.

"Dunno. Let's just be thankful for it."

"What happens now?"

"One thing at a time. Let's get this rig back to Filch, and then go somewhere where we can talk without being seen together. We shouldn't tell anyone about any of this just yet."

"I can't wait to interrogate my father about this! I'm quite livid with him just now."

"I wouldn't, Malfoy. There's got to be a reason that he's never mentioned any of this to you. We should learn what that reason is before we do anything."

"Draco."

"What?"

"Call me `Draco,' Harry." Draco smiled through his huffing breaths.

"Okay... Draco." smiled Harry.

They managed to return the cleaning supplies to Filch's closet without running into him or his mangy, little friend, Mrs. Norris. Harry brushed off his robes, deep in thought. "Where to?"

Draco pondered this. "The classrooms are all empty at this hour. Let's go up to Divination. Trelawney's so trusting, she never casts any anti-mischief spells on her classroom. I actually heard her admit that to Dumbledore. She said if any snogging were going to go on in her classroom, she'd be able to predict it and prevent it. I don't think Dumbledore believed her, but he humored the daft bird, and let the matter drop."

Harry considered Draco's suggestion. It sounded like a good idea. He could have gone back to his dormitory to retrieve his ultra-handy Invisibility Cloak and the wonderfully naughty Marauder's Map, but he wasn't totally convinced that Draco's sudden transformation would be permanent. He decided to keep the contents of his bag of tricks to himself for the time being. He'd hope for the best, though. He WAS Harry Potter, after all. "Good idea, Draco. Let's go."

Again, they ran. They had to dodge a few teachers, Hagrid, and a ghost, along the way. Somehow, they remained undetected, as they arrived at the ladder leading up to the trapdoor, and into the Divination classroom. Draco climbed the ladder, cracked open the door and peered in. The classroom was empty. He crept up, and Harry followed. Draco was impatient.

"The scroll! Open the scroll!"

Harry dug the scroll out from beneath his robes. As he unrolled it, he frowned. "It's blank again."

Draco sighed. "You're being dense, Po—Harry. We have to hold it together." Draco reached out to grasp the parchment. As he touched it, James Potter's handwriting appeared on the page:

Merlin's praised! The spell is cast!

A love is born which, now, must last.

The floor, repaired without a care:

A hiding place you two may share.

Touch the board as one—Surprise!

Keep things far from prying eyes.

Now, on to matters of the heart:

The kiss you shared was just a start.

Emotions true unlocked this scroll,

Now, forward to the second goal.

To each other, now, a gift:

Gentle touching, slow, not swift.

As I and Lucius often share,

Stroke thy friend with loving care.

The other's pleasure is thy aim,

So, pray, enjoy this lover's game.

When this tender deed is done,

The scroll reveals another one.

Harry gulped. "They want us to wank each other!" Harry's voice was filled with a mixture of dread and anticipation.

"I can't tell if our fathers were totally in love, or just perverts," Draco mused. "Do... you want to?" he probed.

"Well," Harry offered, "When we kissed, I—I got..."

"You, too? Go lock the door. I'll round up some floor pillows. I don't know what Trelawney has against chairs, but that was part of the reason I chose this room. I knew she had pillows all over the place. We were going to snog, whether the scroll told us to or not!"

By the time Harry returned from charming the door, Draco had fashioned a bed of pillows upon the floor, and was kicking off his shoes. "Harry? Have you ever—?"

"Before I even learned to do it myself. Over the Christmas holiday during second year, Ron and I—"

"Weasley? For Merlin's sake, P—Harry!" Draco had removed his shoes, and dropped down onto the pillows.

Harry continued as he started to take off his shoes. "We were alone. After freezing our bollocks off in the snow, we took a bath together in the big cauldron up in the Gryffindor bathroom. Our willies got hard, and Ron taught me about wanking. It was brilliant." The memory of that first time filled Harry with a sensuous warmth, and he felt himself beginning to stiffen. Draco was ahead of him. He was pulling at his crotch, trying to rearrange himself. He was already hard, and it was pressing against his clothes in an uncomfortable way.

"So, the two of you have been shagging all this time?" Draco found the thought more-than-mildly distasteful.

"No. Just wanking. Ourselves and each other. It stopped after he realized he was interested in Hermione. We'd even kissed once, but it felt bloody awkward, so we never did it again."

"Oh."

"What about you, Draco? Have you ever been with another boy before?"

Draco hesitated. His instincts told him not to give Harry any ammunition. Finally, though, he remembered the kisses. Somehow, he knew in the pit of his soul that Harry would never hurt him. Ever. "Well, yes. I've done a fair amount of shagging. With boys and girls. Oliver Wood was my first. I suppose second year was memorable for both of us. I used some Polyjuice Potion, and stole my way into the Gryffindor changing room disguised as Percy Weasley. I caught him wanking in the shower after a Quidditch practice. I had hoped to catch YOU in there. I was going to photograph you showering and circulate it around the school."

Harry glowered.

"Relax, Harry," Draco chuckled. "One sight of Wood, and I got wood of my own! I took a photograph of him instead. I still wank to it, now and again. I'll show it to you. Anyway, I hid my camera and stripped off my clothes. He didn't know I was there until he felt my hand on his knob!"

"You wanked a Gryffindor? Out of character for the `old' Malfoy, wouldn't you say?"

"Not really. His body is brilliant, Harry. You must have seen it!"

"Not all of it," admitted Harry. What he didn't admit, however, was that he wouldn't mind taking a peek. His young manhood was throbbing, now, straining for release from beneath constricting garments. He shifted his position, seeking more comfort.

"Bad luck, that, Harry," Draco said. "What you haven't seen is as beautiful as the rest of him. He started wanking me, then he turned me 'round, and shagged me right there, in the shower. He wanked me while he fucked me, and we both came at the same time. The potion wore off as we rinsed ourselves. He was furious, but there wasn't much he could say at that point. He left the shower, and we never spoke of it again."

"All this talk, Draco—"

`I know," Draco commiserated. "Me, too. Better shed these robes!"

Harry and Draco stripped off their robes and tossed them away from the pillow bed. They followed up by adding their neckties, shirts, trousers, and socks to the heaps. They stopped then to look at each other. Draco was wearing black, silk boxer shorts, while Harry, as was to be expected, was wearing Y-fronts which, while clean and white, were a bit frayed about the waistband. Both boys were fully aroused. Draco made the first move. He put his hand against Harry's hardness.

"I wonder what the scroll will say after we do this," Harry wondered.

"One thing at a time, Harry. Let's enjoy this. I'm randy enough to shag Hagrid!" He reached a finger inside Harry's waistband and gently stroked Harry's cock. "Fancy a wank?" he smiled.

"Yes, please," he gasped.

"Then, give us a hand, too, mate." Draco took his free hand and guided Harry to his own hardness. Harry gripped Draco through the silk. "That's it." Draco slipped Harry's underwear down, and Harry did the same to him. They stared at each other's erections, both minds filling with desire.

Draco ran his fingers across Harry's shaft. The head was peeking out from Harry's foreskin. Draco used his thumb and forefinger to slide the foreskin down. A tiny drop of moisture was forming in the slit. Draco caught it on his thumb, and rubbed it around the head of Harry's prick. He was rewarded by a soft moan.

Meanwhile, Harry was exploring the manhood of his now-former nemesis. Draco's erection was bigger than his, but not by much. The foreskin hung further down than his did. It was already leaking moisture. The silky, white-blond hairs that surrounded this handsome organ captivated Harry. So different from his own dark curls. They were intriguingly beautiful to Harry, and his own erection gave an extra throb of appreciation.

They enjoyed the feelings they were experiencing, each boy caressing the other's stiffness, in silence, until Draco spoke. "Harry. Kiss me again."

Harry smiled, and then brought his face to Draco's. They kissed, gently at first, then more deeply and fiercely, as their hands continued their work. Draco used his free hand to caress Harry's bollocks. Harry copied the movements, and they both felt their climaxes approaching.

Harry pulled away from the kiss long enough to gasp, "I'm coming, Draco." Draco knew it. He could feel the extra stiffness in Harry's prick. He knew what it meant. He also knew that he wasn't far behind. Harry grunted, and jets of white spurted between them, soaking both their bellies. As the first spurt hit his body, Draco tensed. As Harry's torrent subsided, Draco's began. His cock exploded, mingling his seed with Harry's. His head snapped back, and a loud "Ohhhhh!" escaped from his throat. Despite the throes of climax, he continued pumping Harry's cock, which was now quite slick.

They might have stayed there for days, but as Draco's orgasm passed, a flash of rainbow light caught their eyes.

"The scroll!" Draco exclaimed.

"One thing at a time, Draco. We've made quite a mess," Harry grinned as he held up his wet, sticky hands. "It wouldn't do to get this all over the parchment, would it?"

"No. But, what—?" He looked around, but saw nothing handy.

"For Merlin's sake, Draco. For someone who's been such a tart, you certainly aren't too creative." Harry used his big toe to root around the pile of his clothes until a sock worked its way to the surface. He picked it up and began to wipe his hands. He then scooped up its mate, and used it to dry his belly and destinations south.

Draco mimicked the ablutions. "That felt brilliant, Harry."

"I thought so, too. I wonder what the scroll has in store for us next." Harry retrieved it. "Ready?"

"Definitely," Draco said eagerly. They touched the scroll together. This time, the handwriting was that of Lucius:

Dear sons! This verse: Not meant to last.

Read it now, and read it fast.

You've shared a touch and one more kiss.

Tonight, that is the end of this.

Tomorrow night, as clock strikes ten,

This parchment must be read again.

Now, one more kiss! Off to your beds!

May dreams of love fill both your heads.

As they finished reading it, the ink faded, and was soon gone.

"Well," said Draco. "They must have known what they were talking about. I'm fairly well knackered."

"Same here," agreed Harry. "Besides, it's almost curfew. We'll meet back here tomorrow night. I suspect I know where this is heading."

Draco smirked. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Harry. One thing at a time. Let's get dressed." He grabbed Harry and kissed him deeply. As they parted, Harry caressed Draco's cheek.

"I like the `new' Malfoy better, I think."

"Me, too," smiled Draco.

"I'm off to bed. You should go see Madam Pomfrey and whatever vile, bruise-be-gone potion she plans to pour down your throat. Draco cringed as they hurried back into their clothes.

"Well, then," said Draco, "best that you kiss me again, now, before my tongue tastes like frog's liver or whatever."

They kissed some more, and then finished dressing. Draco took the scroll this time. He hid it beneath his robes. They kissed one last time, and then went their separate ways.

CHAPTER 3: Undercover Work

The next morning, Harry was running late to Potions class. He was unsure as to how Draco was going to behave toward him in front of the other students. He kicked himself for not thinking about that last night, while they were still together. He'd ultimately decided to follow Draco's lead.

He scurried around the last corner separating him from the door to Potions, and ran smack into Draco, who was flanked, as per usual, by Crabbe and Goyle. Harry stumbled, taking Draco down with him. It was a perfect reversal of the positions they were in when they discovered the scroll. Crabbe and Goyle seemed amused.

"Get off me, Potter, you clumsy ox!" barked Draco, pushing Harry away. They both got to their feet. Draco reclaimed his space between Crabbe and Goyle. Harry was dumbstruck. Was Draco's change of heart a fleeting thing? Would he twist the previous night's events into something tawdry—fodder for the ever-famished Hogwarts rumor mill?

"And, you two," Draco spat at his lackeys as he brushed off his robes, "I fall on my arse, and you think it's funny?" He jabbed his elbows into the flabby guts of his housemates, and down they went. "Now, THAT is funny." As the two bullies clambered back up, Draco used the chance to give Harry a conspiratorial wink. The lump in Harry's throat melted away. "Now, get to class! I have a few more things to say to Potter, and I shall be using big words!"

Crabbe and Goyle skulked off toward the door like two scolded puppies. Once they were out of earshot, Draco turned to Harry, and smiled. "I'll be starring at the Old Vic by summer!" He scoped the area, determined that they were unseen, and gave Harry a quick peck on the lips. "Good morning, Harry."

This was all happening so fast. Harry's head spun. "Keep up, old boy," Draco chided. "I've got a reputation to maintain. Best not to let the whole school in on our secret. We should get to class. If we're late, detention might take us past ten o'clock. I'll see you after practice."

Harry agreed, finally finding his voice. "Right."

Once in class, Harry found it difficult to concentrate. Ron and Hermione were going on about their recent trip to Hogsmeade, but even that didn't interest him, at the moment. He kept stealing glances over at Draco, but it appeared Draco was making a determined effort not to look in his direction. He thought about the feel of Draco's long, slender fingers on his hardened shaft, and began to harden yet again. He casually reached under the table to adjust himself, and was about to curse Draco's self-control, when he saw Draco's hand slip down to do the very same thing. Harry smiled.

"What's the joke?" asked Ron.

"Yes, Harry. You're not paying attention. We were talking about—"

Just then, Snape oozed into the room, and Harry was spared having to explain himself. "Mr. Longbottom," Snape scowled, "I trust you'll spare us from any life-threatening calamities today."

Neville gulped. "Y—Yes, sir," he whimpered sheepishly.

The rest of Harry's day went as awkwardly as Neville's morning, for thoughts of Draco kept his manhood shifting from soft to hard and back again, all day. He was extremely grateful that his robes disguised the evidence of his desire.

The Quidditch pitch was quite muddy that day, and by the time practice had ended, most of the players were unrecognizable. The Hufflepuff team and the Gryffindor team went to their respective changing rooms to shower.

Harry stripped and wrapped a towel around his waist. As he made his way to the showers, he heard Fred and George Weasley talking to Oliver Wood. All three were wearing towels, as well.

"A bit off your game today, Wood," commented Fred.

"I suppose," Oliver mumbled.

"That's what you get for wanking before practice," George giggled.

"Maybe," he blushed.

George put his arm around his twin's shoulder. "That's why we wait until AFTER practice!"

Fred smiled, and the two of them headed off to the shower, the front of their towels already beginning to broadcast upcoming events.

Harry noticed the protrusions and realized the implication, but immediately put it out of his mind. He, too, was clad only in a towel, and he didn't want to have to explain an erection to Wood. He would just find some other part of the shower, and keep his back to whatever the twins were up to. He began to continue toward the showers, when he felt Wood's hand on his shoulder.

"I may've been off m' game, Potter, but ye were spot-on. Well done." He gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze. Harry thought something in Oliver's voice sounded odd. Perhaps he'd cheered himself hoarse during practice.

"Thanks, Wood," Harry nodded. He enjoyed the feel of the strength in Oliver's hand. Wood was beautiful, there was no doubt, but, despite a momentary flash of desire, Harry was determined not to let his curiosity present itself. He started running through homework assignments in his head, trying desperately to avoid getting hard. He failed.

Oliver saw what was happening to the front of Harry's towel. He gave Harry's shoulder another squeeze. "It's all right, Harry. I know ye want me." Harry's eyes grew wide with embarrassment and his throat closed up. Oliver began rubbing the front of his towel. "Ye do want me, don't ye?"

"I—I—" he stuttered.

Oliver released Harry's shoulder and doubled over in laughter. "I can't," Oliver gasped between chuckles. "I can't keep this up. Relax, Harry. It's me, Draco!" It WAS Draco's voice.

Harry was taken aback, but recovered himself quickly. "What the bloody hell?"

"Wood left for London after last class. His got an owl this afternoon that his cousin's just in from Glasgow, but only for a few days. He wanted to scarper off, but had Quidditch. That gave me an idea. I offered to take his place. He was dubious, but I told him I owed him one after the trick I'd played on him, so he agreed. One draught of Polyjuice Potion later, and... Ta da! Well, two, actually. I took a second dose when `Oliver' scarpered off to the loo."

"Well, aren't YOU the devious bastard!" Harry grumbled, as he adjusted his towel.

"Says so on my calling card," said Oliver's face with Draco's devilish grin. "In fact, I have another wicked idea. Let's hang back until the others are out of the shower. You'd like a peek at Oliver's prick, and I don't feel like sharing you with him. This is a perfect solution!"

Such an idea would never have crossed Harry's mind on its own. Nevertheless, Harry was intrigued. So was his penis, which was sticking straight out, hoping to hear more of Draco's plans.

Before he could protest, his teammates started filing out of the shower room. Fred and George were trailing the pack, but the satisfied smiles they wore would lead one to believe that it didn't much matter. The boys all made their way to their lockers, and as the twins headed toward Harry and "Oliver," Draco feigned conversation.

" ... an', that's what t' do when th' sun's glare is blindin' yer view of th' snitch."

"Oh—er—that's good advice, Wood," Harry played along, trying to keep his towel-tent from being seen.

Draco grabbed a bottle of shampoo from Oliver's locker. "Now, let's go get showered. I'm starvin'."

Harry placed his glasses on the shelf in his locker, and they made their way past the other boys without incident. The shower room was soothingly warm and steamy. They walked to the most remote corner, and hung their towels on pegs next to the showerheads. Harry was still fully hard, and Draco's newly Oliverized cock was catching up.

Draco poured some shampoo into his hand, and then passed the bottle to Harry. "Get that mud out of your hair. Let's give them time to dress and leave. It wouldn't do to have you seen in here with Oliver."

"By the way, Draco, how did you get a sample of Wood to put in the potion? And Polyjuice takes a month to brew. How—?"

"I've been brewing it constantly since first year. The towels in the shower rooms are en ever-replenishing resource. I even keep a vial of `Draco,' in case I must change back to myself in a hurry. I keep a stash of vials hidden here at school. There's a secret passage in the Room of Requirement, behind the blue tapestry. I can impersonate damn near anyone here on a few minutes' notice. Even Snape. But, not Dumbledore. That old bastard's even sneakier than I!"

They took their time washing their hair. Harry's erection wasn't going anywhere, though. It was going to wait around until someone tended to it. As he worked the lather into his hair, he couldn't help but stare at the penis of Oliver Wood. Even slightly out-of-focus, it was a magnificent thing. Harry's stare didn't escape Draco's notice.

"Nice one, innit? Bigger than mine, sad to say." He reached down, giving the now fully stiffened member a few strokes with his soapy hands. Draco looked past Harry one last time, and, seeing that the coast was clear, reached out and took Harry's yearning shaft in his hands. "Go on, Harry. Take it."

Harry looked at Oliver Wood's penis. It was, indeed, bigger than Draco's. And thicker. He noted that Oliver's curly, brown, pubic hair was quite similar to his own, but that Oliver had a slight trail of them that crept up to his navel. Draco twitched Oliver's pulsating rod twice in invitation.

Harry tentatively reached for it, but Draco shifted it out of Harry's path. "It's the Golden Snitch, Potter. Let's see how good a Seeker you really are!" Harry suppressed a giggle and mustered his determination. He caught the snitch on the next attempt. "Gryffindor wins!" Draco smiled, as he leaned over to give Harry a kiss.

They kissed and fondled each other in the steamy fog. The lubricatory effect of the shampoo on their cocks added to the stimulation. They were lost in ecstasy, as their climaxes came over them. Harry's cock had been screaming for release all day, but, surprisingly, Draco came first. He lowered Oliver's head to rest in the crook of Harry's neck. He bit his lip, to keep from screaming, as he spurted several hot, milky streams onto the tiled floor.

His orgasm past, Draco worked Harry's cock like a madman, and soon, it, too, gushed forth. As Harry came, his eyes shut tight, and a high-pitched squeak escaped his lips. Fortunately, there was no one left in the locker room to hear it. They both sank to the floor, spent. When Harry opened his eyes, he was startled at seeing the face of Draco Malfoy.

"The potion wore off while you were spraying my chest," said Draco. He ran his forefinger over the creamy blob that hand landed on his left nipple. "That was even better than last night," he admitted.

"Oh, I needed that! That's for sure," said Harry, as he reached to stroke Draco's face, "But I think I like the color of your eyes better."

Draco hugged him. "We'd better get out of here. I don't have any more Polyjuice Potion with me."

They stood to rinse off the evidence of their play, and found themselves sharing a long, loving kiss under the hot, beating water of the shower. Finally, they pulled apart. They turned off the water and dried themselves off. Wrapping the towels around their waists, they headed for the lockers when Harry stopped short. "Wait. Let me scout the way. How would we explain you in the Gryffindor shower room?"

"Good idea."

Harry peeked into the locker room. It was deserted. They padded over to the lockers, and, this time, it was Draco who had a realization. "Wood's clothes! All I've got here are Wood's clothes!" he panicked.

"They'll have to do. Get dressed. We'll sneak you out of here somehow." They donned their clothing. Oliver was taller than Draco, and much more broad chested. Draco looked more than a bit ridiculous in his clothes. Harry peeked out the door, praying that no one was around. He caught a break. Nearly Headless Nick was at the far end of the corridor, but he was talking to a portrait and had his back to the changing room door. "Come on, Draco. Quickly."

The two boys quietly made their way down the corridor, hoping to take the left turn that was about five meters behind Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington. If they could just make that corner, they would be home free. This time, however, their luck ran out.

Just as they were about to make the turn that would guarantee their privacy, Sir Nicholas ended his conversation, spun mid-air, and glided right toward them. He noticed them at once.

"Mr. Potter! How delightful to see you again!" He paused. "And, Malfoy, isn't it?" The boys froze, speechless. The guilt on their faces was unmistakable. Sir Nicholas saw it, but decided to have a little fun at their expense. "Whatever brings the two of you together, hair still damp, so close to the Gryffindor shower room, eh?" Neither boy spoke. "And, you, Malfoy. Aren't we dressed a bit less nattily than usual?" Harry and Draco looked at each other, their eyes pleading for the other one to say something.

"I—We—" Harry found his tongue first, and proceeded to stumble over it. "We—"

Sir Nicholas let out with a hearty guffaw. "Never mind, Mr. Potter. I was a randy lad myself, once. I'll tell you what. Make your way to the staircase. I'll pop up through the ceiling and guarantee you safe passage."

Harry was relieved. "That's awfully sporting of you, Sir Nicholas."

"Don't mention it. It's been a long time since a Gryffindor got along with a Slytherin. It does my heart good. In fact, I believe it was y—" Sir Nicholas caught himself. "Well, perhaps it would be best not to tell tales out of school. Then again, we ARE in school, so... but... well... never mind. I'll begin the reconnaissance." With a determined salute, the ghostly form of Sir Nicholas floated up through the ceiling, and was gone.

Draco spoke first. "He knew about our fathers, Harry!"

"I got that."

"And, now, he knows about us!"

"I got that, too."

"What are we going to do?"

"Nothing. He may be a bit addlepated—"

"Because his `pate' isn't completely attached!"

"In any case, I think we can trust him to be discreet."

"Let's hope so. I want to explain us to Crabbe and Goyle about as much as you'd care to explain us to Granger and Weasley."

"Ahem." The boys looked up to Nick's face peeking through the ceiling. "There's no one about on this floor. Step lively! Mr. Potter will run into Mr. Filch. He is currently cleaning the Fat Lady's picture frame. They're having quite the row, as she's so finicky, and he doesn't care to be told how to do his work. Mr. Malfoy, on the other hand, has a clear path to the Slytherin dormitories."

"Thank you so much, Sir Nicholas!" Harry said. "You won't tell our secret?"

Sir Nicholas placed his hand over the place where his heart used to beat. "On my honor, as a knight of England, I won't tell a living soul, Mr. Potter."

Harry sighed in relief. He then turned his gaze back to Draco. "I'll meet you in Divination just before ten."

"Right!"

CHAPTER 4: The Next Step

Harry felt guilty about having to lie to Ron Weasley. Ron had asked him to play some wizard's chess before going to bed. Harry, not ready to explain recent events, told him that Snape wanted him to scrub the Potions-classroom floor again. Ron plopped down next to him on the sofa in the Gryffindor common room.

"What? That prick! The floor was clean. Does he want it so shiny he can peek up under our robes?"

"I don't know, Ron," said Harry, smiling awkwardly to avoid showing his eagerness to escape this conversation. "I should be back by eleven, or so. Set up the board, and I'll meet you here afterwards, for a late-night game."

"Right. Maybe I'll meet up with Hermione 'til then." He gave his crotch a small squeeze. "I'm feeling a bit—oh, no!" he remembered. "She's in the Library all night. Bloody hell. Well, I guess I'll have to just rub one off myself." He continued fidgeting with the front of his trousers.

Ron's twin brothers had been standing nearby, plotting whatever mischief was currently on their agenda. They'd also been listening to Ron and Harry's conversation. "Oi," Fred piped up, "If you're gonna go have a wank, maybe you should take Longbottom with you!"

"What?" Ron winced.

"Yeah," George agreed. "It's about time someone showed him how. Merlin knows that he'll never get shagged without a bit of mercy on SOMEONE's part." The twins chuckled in unison.

"Bugger off, you two," Ron griped. He demonstrated his intention to ignore them by turning back to Harry, in an overly dramatic way.

"Bugger off?" thought George.

"Bugger off!" agreed Fred.

The twins stood as one, and each grabbed one of Ron's arms. "Bugger off!" they chimed together.

Ron struggled, but not too seriously. "Get off—!"

"`Get off,' he says, " giggled Fred. "I think we will."

George agreed. "Look at 'im, ready to bust 'is trousers, 'e is. Hard as a rock. Who goes first?"

"You went first last time," said Fred.

"So I did. It's been a while. I'd forgotten. You're up, Fred."

"Fair's fair," Fred smiled as they carted their brother up toward the dormitories. "Care to join us, Harry? You're an honorary Weasley, after all."

Harry smiled an awkward smile. Harry knew, of course, that Fred and George had initiated Ron into the pleasures of sex play, and he, in turn, had taught Harry. He supposed it was natural to assume that things would have progressed over the years. For a moment, Harry was a bit jealous. He and Ron had stopped wanking together after Ron started seeing Hermione. But he was still carrying on with his brothers? Well, they WERE bigger than Ron, and there WERE two of them. Perhaps they gave Ron little choice in the matter. Then again, Ron didn't seem to be protesting too loudly. Perhaps his complaints were merely a face-saving measure.

"Um—I'll pass, but—er—thanks for asking?" he said, wondering if that were a bit too polite.

"Your loss," said Fred.

"That's true," agreed George. "Our brother here can host a right brilliant frolic, when he puts his mind to it." They hoisted Ron's feet off the floor, and carried him up the stairs. He didn't kick much.

Unbidden visions of what was about to transpire began to dance in Harry's mind. He reached for his groin in an attempt to rearrange his swelling member, and then realized he should check the clock. It was a quarter to ten. He had to leave for his rendezvous with Draco.

They'd been fortunate so far in not getting caught, well, except for being seen by Nearly Headless Nick, but he appeared to be on their side. Harry wasn't about to press his luck. He planned to use his Cloak and Map to wander the halls of Hogwarts.

Bloody hell, he thought to himself. His magickal items were tucked away upstairs, not three meters from where the Weasley boys were probably already shagging. He tiptoed up the stairs, and into the dormitory, hoping not to disturb them. He planned not to peek, but his eyes betrayed him. Sure enough, there they were, on Ron's bed, a living letter H. Ron was on his hands and knees. George was kneeling in front of Ron, his hard cock halfway down Ron's throat. Fred was kneeling behind Ron, plugging away at his brother's freckled bum. Fred spotted Harry.

"Change your mind, Harry?" he asked.

George opened his eyes and turned. "Plenty t' go 'round, Harry," he added.

"Uh—no thanks," Harry gulped. He could only imagine Ron's embarrassment.

Ron took his mouth away from George and spoke. "It's okay, Harry. I don't mind. As long as you promise never to tell Hermione. She'd never understand."

Well, that was a surprise. Harry knew Ron had a naughty streak. He was a Weasley, after all. But he never suspected that orgies were in his repertoire. He had to admit, he was intrigued, but he turned toward his own bed, before they could see the evidence of his curiosity. "That's okay, Ron," he said, as nonchalantly as he could, given the situation. "I have to go. Mustn't rile Snape, you know."

"Right, then," said Ron, who proceeded to get back to what he was doing.

"See you, Harry," said Fred and George in unison. They leaned over their brother's back and began to kiss. The living H became an A. For all intents and purposes, Harry Potter was no longer in the room.

He left them to their fun, and retrieved his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map. He scurried back down the stairs into the common room, and activated the Map. The halls were unusually crowded for this hour, but Harry was confident that he'd have no problem making his way up to the Divination classroom. He hoped Draco would be as successful.

As he was about to pass out through the Fat Lady's portal, he heard the twins moan rather loudly.

Draco, on the other hand, was having no luck at all. He never bothered to explain his comings and goings to any of the other Slytherins. That wasn't the issue. He was trapped in the Slytherin common room by Crabbe and Goyle, who were prattling on about all sorts of Hogwarts gossip. It was part of their function, of course, as Draco's lackeys, to keep him abreast of any and all information that he could use to his advantage, but tonight, they were merely an annoyance.

"Yes, yes," he waved them off, impatiently. "Save it for tomorrow. I'm going out." They moved to follow. "Alone."

They were crestfallen. Draco knew they both fancied him, but the thought of shagging them turned his stomach, even before he had discovered Harry, and the joy that honest emotion could bring. He suddenly realized that he was beginning to pity this pair of oversized morons. "It must be Harry," he thought to himself. "He's turning me into a right ponce." Draco put on his best sneer, looked up at the two of them, and said, "You two go up and have a shag. That ought to cheer you up." They shrugged, and did as they were told.

Draco shivered at the thought of the two of them going at it, but soon put it out of his mind. He replaced the horrid images with ones of himself and Harry. He couldn't wait to feel himself inside his new lover, but he suspected the scroll wasn't about to get to that step just yet. He knew what was coming, and so did his penis. It began twitching in anticipation.

He got as far as the hallway leading to the ladder near Divination. There, he was spotted by Filch, who was now cleaning picture frames in this part of the school. Seeing Draco, he dropped his washrag into the bucket of gray, soapy water near his feet. Boring his gaze into Draco, he growled, "Where are you going, boy?" Draco began running a score of lies through his mind, but, before he could speak, the old, tin bucket overturned, sending a sheet of dingy water across the floor. "Bloody hell," Filch cursed. "Ah, go on! Off with you!" he barked, as he stooped to right the bucket. "I'm gonna need a bloody mop," he grumbled to himself, as he stomped off to the nearest broom closet.

Draco released the breath he'd been holding. Not wishing to tempt fate, he scurried up the ladder to the Divination classroom. Harry was already there, but he was panting heavily. He was lighting a single candle as Draco entered.

"You just got here?" Draco asked.

"Just now," Harry said. He'd barely had time to secrete his magickal items in one of the cupboards when Draco arrived.

Draco immediately began to undress. His robes practically flew off, and Harry saw the scroll tucked into the waistband of his trousers. "C'mon. Let's get starkers before we read the scroll." Harry saw the gleefully wicked look in Draco's eyes. He, too, suspected what the scroll would say. Before too long, both boys were naked, kneeling side by side, as they unrolled the scroll together. In Lucius Malfoy's handwriting, they read:

By now, you boys have shared so much:

A lover's kiss, a gentle touch.

Neither stupid, both so wise,

The task tonight you do surmise.

Let your kisses gad and roam,

And find a waiting, grateful home.

You may want more—avoid temptation!

Just enjoy this new sensation.

My son, I think you'll take the lead:

Teach your friend this loving deed.

Once each other's taste you've known,

Further verses will be shown.

"Just as I thought," said Draco, as he rolled up the scroll. A drop of clear fluid fell from his stiffened member. He looked below Harry's waist, and saw that Harry was just as eager. He slipped Harry's glasses off his face, saying, "Give us a kiss, Harry." They embraced each other and their lips met. So did their erections. As Draco's penis touched Harry's, Harry could feel the pulsing of Draco's member against his own. He also felt the moisture that was now steadily oozing from the tip. Their kiss deepened.

Draco broke away from the kiss, and moved his mouth to the crook of Harry's neck. He ran his tongue over the curve of Harry's shoulder, giving a few gentle nips with his teeth along the way. Harry savored this sensation. His penis seemed to get harder and harder.

Draco gently urged Harry down into a reclining position. His mouth moved down from Harry's shoulder. His tongue traced the circle of Harry's left nipple, and he used his forefinger to give Harry's right nipple some attention, as well. Harry had no idea his nipples were so sensitive. He'd never thought of them as an erogenous zone, but, with every flick of Draco's tongue, his throbbing erection demonstrated that it knew all along.

Harry's head was tossed back, his eyes closed. Draco's ministrations moved steadily downward. Harry's body gave a twitch as Draco's tongue began to poke around in his navel. The feel of it sent a jolt through Harry's body, and moisture began seeping from his stiffened prick. The anticipation of what was to come was becoming unbearable. He stroked Draco's hair with his hands. It was silky soft. Harry leaned down and kissed the top of Draco's head.

Draco looked down, and saw that the head of Harry's cock was dripping a silent plea. He smiled, and moved in. He started with a quick flick of his tongue. It barely grazed Harry's hardness, but Draco was able to scoop up the next drop of moisture that escaped Harry's member. He savored the taste of it, and was greedy for more.

Draco really loved giving head, and was quite talented at it. He'd been waiting to taste Harry, but was determined not to rush. He knew Harry wouldn't last long, and he didn't want this experience to end. He used the tip of his tongue to gently stroke Harry. He started at the top, and then drew a line down Harry's shaft. Harry shivered. Draco retraced the line back to the top, looked up, and asked, "Like that, do you?"

"Y—Yes," Harry whispered.

"Glad to hear it," Draco smiled, before returning to the task at hand. This time, he started at Harry's bollocks, rolling them around with his tongue. Harry's cock throbbed, and moisture was virtually pouring from the tip. Harry moaned. Draco moved back up, and, when he got to the top, he began licking circles around the swollen head.

Harry's brain was swimming. Draco was driving him crazy. His hips twitched, and he nearly poked Draco in the eye. Draco chuckled. "Easy there, mate. Fancy some more?" He didn't wait for an answer. He took Harry into his mouth, burying his nose in Harry's dark curls.

"Ohhhh," Harry moaned. "Oh, Draco. Draco!" His hips bucked as Draco began sucking in earnest. Up and down. Up and down. Harry's eyes rolled up in his head as his fingertips gripped Draco's shoulders like a vise. Harry could feel his climax building.

Draco knew that Harry was close. He could feel Harry getting even stiffer in his mouth. He could also feel the puddle that his own untended prick was leaking onto his thigh. If he wasn't careful, he might miss an opportunity for reciprocation.

He worked Harry harder and harder. Harry was moaning louder and louder in ecstasy. His hips bucked faster and faster and faster, and then—

"Ahhhhhhhhh," Harry shouted as he came. One, two, three spurts filled Draco's mouth. He swallowed it greedily, savoring the creamy, sweet taste, without relenting the pace of his sucking. Four, five, six. "Ohhh! Ohhhh! OHHHHH!" Seven, eight. Draco's jaw was tiring, but he kept sucking. Harry's bollocks had emptied themselves into Draco, but his penis was now so sensitive that the orgasm continued. His hands flew to cover his eyes, and his hips continued to buck. His feet were kicking around uncontrollably. Finally, Draco's tempo slowed, and he released Harry from this intimate grasp. He wiped his chin, as Harry gasped for air.

Harry pulled Draco up, and held him so tightly that Draco thought he would suffocate. Draco kissed Harry, letting him sample a taste of himself. It took Harry a second to realize what caused the difference in the taste of Draco's kiss. He liked it. He swabbed his tongue around Draco's, searching for the taste of his own ecstasy. Draco's hard cock was pressed against Harry's thigh, and he could feel its dampness. He suddenly realized where he could further sample this amazing nectar.

He pulled away from Draco's kiss. "I want to do that for you."

"I should hope so," Draco jested. "Mind your teeth!" They rolled over, so that Harry was now straddling Draco. Harry started downward, kissing and licking a trail to Draco's chest. His hands and tongue explored Draco's upper body. Draco leaned his head back and lost himself in the feeling of his lover's touch. He was really enjoying this. Harry was an apt pupil, indeed.

Harry enjoyed feeling Draco's nipples harden under his touch. He knew how outrageously sensual it felt when Draco did it to him, and he took great joy in knowing that he was now giving that same pleasure to this boy, this one-time enemy, who was rapidly becoming the object of Harry's love.

He started his southward journey. He kissed Draco's taut stomach, burying his tongue in Draco's navel. This area was especially sensitive, and Draco twitched and moaned. Harry knew he was on the right track. Draco's throbbing prick was tapping against Harry's chest. He could feel each pulse. It leaked lubrication, and Harry moved his chest back and forth, stimulating Draco even more. He pulled away, and laid his face against Draco's abdomen. He wanted to feel Draco's silky, blond hairs against his cheek. They were so soft. He brushed his cheek across the downy patch several times. Harry felt himself getting hard again. Draco felt Harry's hardness poking against his leg. He shifted positions and took Harry in hand.

Harry inhaled the scent of his lover, and all thoughts of further foreplay vanished from his mind. His mouth dove onto Draco's cock, like a starving madman. His mouth pumped ravenously, as Draco's stroking continued. Soon, they were moving as one.

Draco was going insane, but he was determined to wait until Harry was ready to come again. His cock was begging for release. Draco bit his lip, trying to make the feelings subside. Harry was very good at this. Draco's hips bucked suddenly, and Harry was unprepared. Draco's cock hit the back of Harry's throat, triggering a small gag. Harry coughed. "Sorry, Harry. You're just so good at this. Wait. Hold still." Draco spun his body around, and they began sucking each other.

Draco was trying to hold back. He wanted to come, but he wanted to wait for Harry. He knew the second orgasm would take longer. He hoped he could last.

Harry sucked harder. The taste of Draco in his mouth fueled his lust. He felt himself stiffen more. He knew he was going to come again. Then he felt similar stiffening in his own mouth. He instinctively knew what this meant. He was determined not to choke on the nectar that would quench his thirst. He pulled back slightly, so that it would hit the roof of his mouth. They were bucking together, both aware of the goal, though no words were spoken. They both moaned as they sucked. Harder. Faster. Harder. Faster.

Draco's orgasm hit. His brain seemed to explode, as Draco experienced the most intense orgasm of his life. The first spurt hit Harry's tongue as his head was moving down. The taste of Draco triggered his own release. They grabbed each other, and sucked for all they were worth. Neither wanted to be the first to disengage. It seemed Draco's cock would never stop gushing. Draco lost count of how many pearly jets escaped his cock. Harry drank all but a small bit that escaped, and was running down his chin. The taste was salty, but delicious. Harry hoped the flow would never end.

Draco gobbled Harry's release. There was less this time, and it was thicker, but just as sweet. They continued to suck on each other until they were totally spent. Finally, they rolled off each other. Draco spun around. He kissed Harry like they hadn't seen each other in years. He lapped the trail of his own release that was on Harry's chin. The intensity of the kisses waned, and soon, they were lying, silently, in each other's arms.

During Draco's climax, the scroll responded with its usual light show, but neither boy noticed. Finally, it occurred to Harry to ask, "What about the scroll?"

"It'll keep," Draco said. "Stay with me." A tear formed in the corner of his eye.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, concerned.

"I—I've never been this happy in all my life, Harry." He fought back the tear. "Never."

That was the moment that Harry Potter fell in love. He'd moved past hatred, past pity, past affection and lust. Harry Potter loved this boy. He took Draco's chin in his hand. "I know. We've both had it rough. But, that's over. We have each other now." He made sure Draco was looking him right in the eye, and he said, "I love you, Draco."

That did it. Tears poured from Draco's eyes. "I love you, too," he sobbed. He grabbed Harry's face and kissed it several times, as his sobs subsided. "Can we just lie here for a while?" he pleaded.

"Of course," said Harry. "I'm not going anywhere." They stayed there, quietly, Draco's head resting on Harry's chest. Soon, they were asleep in each other's arms.

Harry had a strange dream. He and Draco were standing atop one of the tables in the Great Hall. They were naked, and holding hands. The room was full. Everyone at Hogwarts was there. He realized they were standing atop Gryffindor's table. The faculty tables were at the far end of the Hall. All the teachers were seated. Albus Dumbledore was standing in front of the faculty table, beckoning them forth.

They began to walk toward Dumbledore. As they passed each student along the way, the students rose to their feet and began to applaud. From the side, the students' robes looked like a wave of black water, rising to gently guide the naked lovers to the head of the table.

Draco was beaming, and Harry knew he was beaming, too. They walked proudly to the head of the table, where Dumbledore greeted them with open arms and a wide smile. They hopped down from the table, and into Dumbledore's embrace.

"At last!" Dumbledore proclaimed. "The rift 'twixt Slytherin and Gryffindor is healed!" He turned the boys to face their peers. The applause in the room increased in volume, and was joined by deafening cheers. The teachers were now on their feet, as well.

Suddenly, a snowy owl flew into view. It was Hedwig. Harry's owl swooped down, and landed on the table, near Harry's leg. She started poking her beak at Harry's thigh, insistently. "What is it, Hedwig? What do you want?"

Suddenly, something in Harry's mind realized that he could actually feel something jabbing his thigh. He awoke with a start to see, indeed, Hedwig's shiny beak poking at him in the candlelight. He looked around. "Hedwig? What are you doing here?" Hedwig didn't answer. She merely turned her head toward her leg. Harry saw a note wound around it. As he fumbled to free the note, he stole a peek at Draco. He was still sleeping.

Harry unrolled the note. It was from Ron:

"Harry. Where the bloody hell are you? You missed curfew. I bribed our favorite prefect at head count, but you'd better get back here. I hope Hedwig can find you, or your arse is toast. —R."

"Shite," cursed Harry. He shook Draco awake. "Draco! Wake up! We overslept!"

"Wha—oh, fuck!" cried Draco, suddenly fully awake. They scampered into their clothes. "How the hell are we going to get to our dormitories? We are totally nicked!"

"Not necessarily," Harry realized. "Grab the scroll," he urged, as they unmade their pillow bed. Harry went to the cupboard and retrieved his Cloak and Map. He tucked the Map into the waistband of his trousers, and as Draco turned back, he saw the folds of fabric in Harry's hands.

"What's that?" he asked.

"A present from my father—an Invisibility Cloak."

"Invis—Holding out on me, Harry? A lot of things suddenly make sense! That's fucking brilliant!!!"

Harry turned to Hedwig. "Back to the Owlery with you, my friend. Thanks for your help!" He patted Hedwig on the head. She turned and sailed out the window. He turned back to Draco. "C'mon. We've got to get out of here." They moved to the trapdoor, and Harry removed the charm that kept it locked. Harry opened it a crack, and peered down. The immediate area was clear. "Let's go." They climbed down the ladder, and scoped the area. It was clear.

Harry stood close to Draco, and draped the Cloak around them. They ran as quickly as they could, and as quietly as they could, toward the Slytherin dormitories. Fortunately, most of the faculty had retired for the evening, but many of the ghosts and paintings kept late hours. They tiptoed past Snape, who was skulking about, and Filch, who was prowling around, looking for someone to hassle.

Finally, they arrived at Slytherin's common room. The coast was clear, so Draco slipped out from beneath the Cloak. "We made it," he whispered. "I'll be all right. You, go on now. I'll meet you after lunch."

"Where?" asked Harry.

Draco pondered that, and an idea struck him. "Potions. Snape's cancelled all his afternoon classes. He didn't say why."

"Won't he have charmed the classroom?"

"Even so, I can take care of that. I devised a way to suspend his charm. Mind your stomach now, but Crabbe and Goyle needed a place to shag. I didn't feel like watching the two of them go at it in the dormitory, so I de-hex the classroom for them about twice a week."

"So, you've been holding out on me, too?"

"It appears we're both men of mystery, Mister Invisibility Cloak!"

"We should hide the scroll back in the floor while we're there. We don't have time now, though."

"Speaking of the scroll," said Draco, taking it from beneath his robes, "Take it. It'll be safer with you tonight. I suspect Gryffindor has fewer Nosy Parkers than Slytherin.

Harry took the scroll, gave Draco a goodnight kiss, and ducked under the Cloak.

"G'night, luv," no one said.

CHAPTER 5: The Test

Harry rose early the next morning. He wanted to take a bath before first class without having to answer any questions. He figured it would be at least an hour before the other boys woke. He had plenty of time for a long, luxurious soak. He shucked off his pajamas, grabbed a change of clothes, and his wand, and then scampered off to the bathroom.

As he passed the biggest cauldron, memories of his first-time encounter with Ron sprung to mind. He did love Ron, dearly, but now that he had fallen in love with Draco, well, he and Ron would always be close, but more like brothers. Well, not like the Weasley brothers, apparently, for they seemed to be a well-oiled shag factory, but he knew what he meant.

Harry placed his clothes near the cauldron, and used his wand to fill the tub and ignite a fire beneath it. He'd have to wait a few minutes for the water to heat. He began to daydream. Visions of the previous night's lovemaking gave Harry a warm, secure feeling. He absent-mindedly started rubbing his groin. He had just achieved full erection, when he heard a noise behind him. He spun around, and there was his good friend, Seamus Finnigan, staring at him. He blushed and covered himself.

"Oi, Harry, don't be embarrassed. Look! I was comin' in here to do the same thing." Sure enough, the front of Seamus's pajama bottoms was poking out. "Had me a mornin' stiffy, and thought I'd have a wank before breakfast. No better way t' start the day, I always say! Mind if we share that tub?"

Harry gulped. He didn't know what to say, but that didn't appear to bother Seamus, who slipped off his pajamas, and climbed into the cauldron without waiting for a response. "C'mon, then. It's nice an' warm."

Harry, unable to devise a polite decline, joined Seamus in the cauldron. They knelt on opposite sides, facing each other. Their stiffened members were both pointing at each other. Harry was uncomfortable, but the release his penis craved was more so.

Seamus began stroking himself. The head of his penis appeared and disappeared from beneath its foreskin. Harry couldn't help but watch. He felt a little like he was cheating on Draco, but if they didn't touch each other, he rationalized, it wouldn't count. He reached down, and began to play with himself.

"That's it, Harry," Seamus smiled, "Have a go! Better'n a glass of butterbeer in the mornin'." They watched each other stroke. "Yours is bigger, Harry! I've never seen it before."

"Yes, well, I've never seen yours, either. It's—nice."

"Thanks, Harry. I like it. So does Oliver Wood," he said with a wicked grin.

"You and Wood?" Harry couldn't believe the amount of shagging that was apparently going on right under his nose.

"Uh huh. I guess he's fancied me arse for a while now. A few weeks back, he let me catch him having a wank in this very tub. His prick's HUGE, Harry! Have you ever seen it?"

"Once. After practice," Harry said, deliberately neglecting to mention the fact that it was really Draco wearing Oliver's body.

"Well, anyway, he stood up in the tub, and pointed th' great beast right at me. I stared at it like I'd never seen one before. He said, `Go on. Touch it if you want,' and th' next thing ye know, we were snoggin' and wankin' each other in this very tub. I'd offer to demonstrate, but we've since decided to be only with each other."

"I understand," said Harry, secretly relieved.

"Don't mean we can't watch, though, right?"

"I guess so."

"Great. Let's have at it, then." Both boys pumped away at their swollen members. Seamus grunted as his pleasure increased, while Harry moaned quietly. "Tell me when, Harry. I want to see. In fact," he added, "Shoot it in your hand. Let's see who makes more."

"All right." They continued stroking, and soon, Harry was ready. "Now!" he gasped.

"I'm right behind you, Harry," Seamus panted. "Shoot it. Shoot it!"

Harry aimed the head of his cock at the palm of his free hand. With a groan, he shot several small spurts into it. Watching Harry come sent Seamus over the edge. He filled his cupped palm with nearly a dozen spurts. His palm overflowed, and several drops fell into the water. When he was done, he moved his hand next to Harry's.

"I win."

"Well," said Harry, "I guess it's because I got off last night." He didn't go into details.

"Oh, an' I haven't had a bloody chance to do this in three bloody days. Oliver's off in London for the rest of the week, an' I've been too busy. Well, then. This wasn't a fair test. We'll have to try again sometime when ye're fully recharged! We'll see if me prick can give yours a run f'r its money!"

"Okay," Harry agreed. "Now," he wondered, looking at the puddle in his hand, "What to do with this?" He looked, but his towel was out of reach.

"Destroy the evidence," Seamus winked, as he poured the contents of his hand into his mouth. Harry remembered the taste of his own release when he kissed Draco the night before. Tentatively, he touched the tip of his tongue to the teaspoonful or so of white nectar in his hand. It was, indeed, as sweet as he remembered. With one big lick, his palm was clean. Seamus was licking his fingers, trying to get every last drop of his own climax. "Shite, that's good," he boasted. Harry wondered if Seamus's was sweet like his, or saltier, like Draco's.

Seamus changed from a kneeling position to a sitting one, and then submerged himself in the hot water. He popped back up, slicking his hair back. "Ahhh ... That's th' prize." Harry followed suit, giving his armpits a quick going-over while he was under the water. When his head broke the surface of the water, he saw that Seamus was climbing out of the tub, unaware that his bum was centimeters from Harry's face. Harry peeked. "Well, you finish your bath. I'm off to breakfast." With that, he grabbed his towel, and began to dry himself. Harry appreciated the chance to enjoy some post-orgasmic time in the soothing, hot water.

Seamus wrapped his towel around his waist, and was turning to leave, as Colin Creevey stumbled into the bathroom. Colin was yawning, as he scratched his head. He was bare-chested, wearing only his pajama bottoms. The tip of his semi-erect penis was peeking out from the fly. He carried a towel in one hand.

"Here f'r your mornin' wank, Colin?" Seamus asked.

Colin nodded. "Best way t' start the day, you always say," he yawned.

"Right. I'm off," Seamus said as he left the bathroom. "Enjoy yourselves."

The use of the plural didn't register with Colin right away. When it did, he looked, and noticed Harry for the first time. The sight of his idol woke him right up. Him AND his penis. It crept a little bit further out into the open. "Harry!" he said. "All right, Harry?"

"Good morning, Colin," Harry replied.

"May I?" Colin tentatively asked, indicating the cauldron.

"Of course," Harry conceded. "What the hell was going on around here?" he thought to himself. "I'll be wanking with the whole House before lunchtime." He shifted to make room for Colin.

Colin shimmied out of his pajamas, threw the towel on the floor, and hopped into the tub. Harry could see that Colin was now fully hard. Colin was a year younger than Harry, and his penis was smaller, but it looked like it was in good working order.

Colin was doe-eyed, admiring the naked object of his boyish crush. Harry knew that Colin fancied him, but he didn't want to cruelly dash the boy's fantasies. He was still spent from his recent adventure with Seamus, but he sat there in the tub, and let Colin play with himself. Just the fact that Harry was there, naked, watching him, seemed to be enough for Colin. He looked supremely happy, as he pulled on himself. Harry watched Colin admiring him. The boy was obviously smitten. Colin licked his lips and closed his eyes. Harry knew that Colin was close to climax.

"I'm coming, Harry! I'm coming!" And, sure enough, Colin exploded with a loud moan. The first jet sailed through the air, hitting Harry square on the lip. The rest landed in the water. Colin was still in the throes of orgasm as Harry wiped his lip. He discretely took a taste of Colin. It was sweet, like his own.

When Colin opened his eyes, there was no evidence of what might have been an embarrassment to him. "That was brilliant, Harry," he beamed. "Thanks for staying with me."

Harry smiled back. "Not a problem, Colin. But, I do have to get out of this tub. I'm beginning to boil." Harry climbed out of the cauldron. Colin stared at him, awestruck. Harry felt it was harmless enough, so he let the younger boy get a good look at him, front and back. "See you at breakfast, Colin?"

"Nah. I'm skipping breakfast. I think I've got another one in me," he smiled.

"Go to it then. I'll see you later." Harry wrapped his towel around his waist, retrieved his glasses, and started back to the dormitory. He saw Fred and George Weasley heading toward him. They, too, were clad only in towels.

"Oi, Harry," they said.

"Morning, gents," Harry greeted them.

"Harry," George said. "You missed a brilliant evening last night."

"Yeah," Fred concurred. "Ron'll probably sleep 'til Sunday."

"I'm glad you had a good time," Harry offered.

"We wore the poor sod out, but we're still randy," said Fred.

"Care to join us for a wank?" asked George.

What was going on here? Something was definitely afoot. Three days ago, he was damn near a virgin, and no one discussed his sex life openly. Now, suddenly, everyone was lusting, as if sex was going out of fashion. He wasn't complaining, mind you, but it was truly unusual. "No thanks," he declined, "Already taken care of."

"You're sure?" asked Fred, as he yanked George's towel away. "He has a rather nice yobbo there."

George retaliated, and Fred's towel went flying. "Yours is rather impressive, too, Fred. Why, I haven't seen such a beautiful prick since—well, since mine!" They laughed the same laugh.

Harry chuckled, too. The Weasley twins may have been incorrigible delinquents, but, damned if they weren't just plain funny. "Thanks, really, but I'm starving. I'm off to the Hall."

"Suit yourself," they replied.

Harry continued on his way. As he passed out of earshot, he heard one of them say, "Oi. This tub is full of spunk!" and the other one reply, "Two more loads won't matter much then, will they?"

Harry was totally confused. He couldn't wait to meet up with Draco, and tell him about this very strange morning. He dressed quickly, and was on his way out the door, when he heard Ron's voice. "Mornin', Harry."

Harry turned. "Oh, hi, Ron."

Ron winced. "Oi, is it morning already? Those bastards gave me a right buggerin' last night."

"They're at it again in the cauldron."

Ron stood, rubbing his bum. "I'll pass. Glad you finally made it home last night. Where were you?"

Harry didn't think Ron would handle the truth well, so he tried to dodge. "Had to do a favor for a friend. Family business."

"Oh," said Ron. He let the matter drop, as he looked down and saw that his pajama bottoms were tenting. "Maybe I'll join them, after all. Several of the other boys were beginning to waken. Harry wanted to make an exit before the entire Gryffindor boys' population was screwing in the common room. He turned to go, but Ron laid his hand on Harry's shoulder. "I'll tell you a secret, Harry," he whispered. "As identical as they are, there's always one way to tell them apart—George gives lousy head. Fred's the pro." He gave his dark-haired friend a pat on the back, and then scampered off to the bathroom.

Harry made his way to breakfast without being further propositioned, fondled, or flashed. He entered the Great Hall, scouting for Draco as subtly as he could manage. He wasn't there. He looked toward the area of Gryffindor's table where he and his friends usually sat. Sure enough, Hermione was already there, her nose buried in a book.

He sat beside her, praying to Merlin that she wasn't about to throw herself at him. "Good morning, Hermione," he ventured.

She looked up. "Oh, hello, Harry," she muttered, and then returned to her reading.

"Maybe I'm just imagining things," he thought to himself. He poured himself a cup of tea, all the while wondering where Draco was. He didn't have long to wait before he got his answer.

Draco's voice carried across the Hall. "Leave me be, you tits! I don't want to see you for at least the rest of the day! Bugger off!" Harry turned. A suspected, it was Crabbe and Goyle who were the targets of Draco's vehemence. To Harry's ears, it didn't sound like he was acting. Draco was furious.

Draco successfully chased his toadies away, and then looked toward where he expected to see Harry. Their eyes met. Harry gave him a questioning look, and Draco, face full of determination, made a beeline for him. When he was within reach, he grabbed Harry by the robes. "Come along, Potter. I want to have a word with you," he insisted. Without slowing, or missing a step, he swept Harry away toward the corner of the room.

Hermione looked up from her book as their robes fluttered past her peripheral vision. "What's Malfoy up to now?" she thought to herself. She pretended to go back to her reading, but kept one eye on the conversation that was being conducted in the corner.

"What's wrong?" Harry whispered.

"I've just had the most fucking bizarre morning I've ever known," Draco spat. "Everyone and his uncle has tried to shag me this morning!"

"Are you serious?"

"Yes! I thought I was having this nice wet dream about you, but I woke up to find Malcolm Baddock and Graham Pritchard on either side of me, naked as jaybirds, sharing my prick like it was an all-day lolly! I spurted right in Baddock's eye before I knew what was happening. Crabbe and Goyle were just standing there, watching and wanking, like I was some porno film. I kicked them both out of my bed, and went to the bathroom to wash. Adrian Pucey and Theodore Nott were there. They were snogging until they saw me, at which point they offered me a place between them. I swear, Harry, I've never seen anything like it!"

"I have," said Harry. "The same thing happened to me. Every time I turned around, someone was offering me some sort of sex."

"What the bloody hell is going on around here?"

"I don't know, Draco, but I'll bet it has something to do with the scroll."

"That's probably a safe bet. We'd better get to it as soon as possible."

"I'm not free, at all, until after lunch. We'll have to muddle through 'til then."

"Do you know a spell that will change my boxer shorts into a chastity belt? I'm not going into Potions if Snape is going to be as randy as the rest of the boys around here!"

"Do your best, Draco. I'll see you then, and meet you, after lunch, back at Potions, once Snape's gone for the day. Now, insult me loud enough for all to hear, so I can satisfy Hermione's curiosity about what we're talking about."

"Right. Be careful, Harry," he whispered, giving Harry a wink. He raised his voice, "You're a right wanker, Potter!" he said, and stormed away.

Harry rejoined Hermione. "What's he on about?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing for you to worry about. Ignore him," Harry suggested.

"All right," she said, as she went back to her book.

The strange events of this very strange day carried on throughout Harry's morning. The strangest thing of all, though, was that the girls seemed to be unaffected by this sudden upswing in libido, and the teachers were unnaturally oblivious to what was happening all around them.

In each of his classes, Harry spotted at least one boy flirting with him. Most were casual and subtle about it, but more than a few of his classmates were downright bold. He'd actually caught Colin Creevey's younger brother, Dennis, fondling himself while sitting on one of the moving staircases.

"What are you doing, Dennis?" Harry asked, stunned.

"Wanking," Dennis replied, matter-of-factly. He sat on the stair, his robes bunched up at his waist. His trousers were crumpled at his ankles. Dennis was the smallest boy at Hogwarts, a scrawny kid with mousy, brown hair. Harry noticed, though, that puberty was being kind to him. Though three years younger than Harry, Dennis's hardened member was nearly the size of his own. It was certainly larger than his brother's. He wondered if Colin resented that. His nether hairs were wispy, and just as mousy as their northern cousins. Harry could imagine how soft they would be to touch. He was mesmerized for a moment. "Would you like to wank with me?" he asked, as he reached up to cup the front of Harry's bulging trousers.

Harry backed away. "No thanks, Dennis. Perhaps it would be better if you did that in the bathroom," he suggested.

"Too late," Dennis cried. His willy gave three quick spurts that landed on the floor between them. Harry was concerned that none of the boys at Hogwarts were in their right minds, but he was also highly aroused at watching Dennis come.

"This is insane," he thought to himself. And then, aloud to Dennis: "I wouldn't let Filch find that."

"Right, Harry," said Dennis. He tucked his shrunken penis into his trousers, and then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. He mopped up the spill, and Harry used the opportunity to make a hasty exit.

Harry ran to the nearest bathroom, hoping to find a little solitude and quiet. What he found, however, were the Weasley twins, rolling around naked with their pal, Lee Jordan, atop a pile of clothing and robes. They were a writhing mass of arms, legs, tongues, and bums. Lee's chocolate skin was a stark contrast to the pale limbs of the redheaded twins. Lee's cock was at least an inch bigger than Oliver Wood's. Harry couldn't help but stare.

He watched them for several minutes, unable to turn away. His own stiffness begged him to join the fun, but Harry collected himself, and backed out of the bathroom. They never knew he was there.

Draco's day wasn't going any better. It wasn't just Slytherins who were crossing his path. He was tired of dodging his randy housemates, so he planned to hide in the Ravenclaw changing room, which he expected to be empty, while the first-years were outside with Madam Hooch's flying lessons. He was wrong.

Terry Boot and Michael Corner were there, licking each other's stiffness simultaneously, and Anthony Goldstein was sitting nearby, watching them, as he slowly stroked himself. Draco noticed that Anthony was circumcised. He couldn't recall ever seeing a penis like that. Terry and Michael moved together as if they'd known each other's touch all their lives. This was no randy fun. Draco could tell these two boys loved each other. He might not have been able to tell the difference a week ago, but now that he'd known Harry's loving touch, he could recognize it in others.

He was feeling randy himself, but, if all went as he'd guessed, and the scroll followed its pattern, he and Harry would be fucking before the end of the day. Part of him wanted to run from the room, screaming, but he couldn't find his legs. He watched as Terry and Martin reached their peak. They moaned as they drank each other in, greedily.

"That's hot, isn't it, Malfoy?" Draco realized with a start that he'd been spotted. Anthony was walking toward him, swirling his fingertip around in the moisture dripping from the head of his cock. "I'm close, too. Watch me come, Malfoy." Draco was too flabbergasted to do anything but stare. Anthony threw back his head. Pearly streams gushed toward Draco. He saw the approaching fluid, and was able to react. He managed to dodge all but one spurt, which landed across the back of Draco's hand. Without thinking, he raised the hand to his face, and licked it clean. It tasted salty, like his own.

Terry and Martin approached. Drops of liquid glistened at the tips of their now semi-erect cocks. "Hi, you two," Terry said. "We didn't see you there."

"We could go again, if you'd like to stay and watch," offered Martin.

Er—I've got to go," Draco said. He turned and bolted.

Finally, it was lunchtime. It was easy for Harry and Draco to spot each other, for half the boys were missing from the Great Hall. Harry pulled out his chair to sit, and there, under the table were Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, snogging like mad. They saw Harry. Seamus whispered, "Hi, Harry!" Dean repeated the greeting. Harry was totally confused. Just this morning, Seamus had told him that he and Oliver were being exclusive, and yet, here he was, trying to remove Dean's tonsils with his tongue. This day was getting stranger by the minute.

Draco made a similar discovery. Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Hufflepuff, was having a wank, under the Slytherin table. As Draco discovered him, he was using his right hand to aim his stiff prick at the handkerchief he held in his left. A high-pitched squeak escaped Justin's throat as he spilled his seed into the cloth.

"Go do that under your own table," Draco commanded.

"That's okay, Malfoy. I'm finished." Justin put the soggy handkerchief in his pocket, and fumbled himself back into his trousers. He stood, and walked away. Draco had had enough. He marched over to the Gryffindor table.

"Come on, Harry. Let's get out of this madhouse. They've all gone daft. I say we go up to Potions now, and read that bloody scroll."

"I agree. Let's go."

They ran all the way to Potions. Along the way, they passed a window just as Snape was flying by on a broom. They stopped, making sure he didn't circle back. Once satisfied Snape was gone, they dashed to the classroom. At the door, Draco removed a small vial from his pocket. The vial's lid was an eyedropper. He carefully applied one drop of a translucent, blue potion to the doorknob. He put the vial away, and took out his wand. Uttering a spell that Harry had never heard of, "Ingressum!," Draco tapped the doorknob. The blue liquid turned red, and then vanished. "There. He'll never know we were here. Come on."

They went into the room, and locked the door behind them. Harry dug the scroll out from under his robes, and unrolled it. Draco moved into position, and touched the parchment in Harry's hands. James Potter's handwriting appeared:

Sons, you've known each other's taste, And now, there is no time to waste!

Do you love each other best? Prove it, lads, and take this test.

You must not join, as two men do, Until this latest task is through.

From each other, you must part, To test the trueness of your heart.

Upon dear Hogwarts, spells are cast, And you determine if they last.

Each of you must sample three Others who around you be.

Let them love you, each a week, If the answers still you seek.

Those around you will seem charmed, But there's no need to be alarmed.

Once a declaration's formal, Others will return to normal.

The charm was cast to ease your way, For you must choose within a day,

Lest you fall prey to a panic: Surrounded by a crowd most manic.

Choose one with a lover's kiss, Take a week, Enjoy the bliss!

Once the week has past by you, Search your heart, and ask it who

It loves more, and know the truth: If it's each other, then: Forsooth!

Your recent love remembers naught But dearest friendship, freely sought.

A second week, a second friend: To his needs, you now must tend.

Kiss him, love him, sweetly, dearly. At week's end, you will know clearly

Where your truest feelings lie: Who's the sparkle in your eye?

If, by now, your love doth last, The time of testing's nearly past.

A third new love, you now must choose. Hie thee, lads, no time to lose!

Open up your loving hearts: A week of joy now quickly starts.

Another choice at end-of-week: Who's desire do you seek?

If, then, you can answer true: Your heart now stands right next to you,

Then, to this scroll, you may return, And its further secrets learn.

Harry rolled up the scroll. "You know what this means, don't you, Draco?"

"We can't be with each other again for THREE WEEKS! That really sucks doxy bollocks, Harry!"

"I agree, but it seems we have to be absolutely certain that we love each other."

"I'm already certain, Harry! I've shagged more people than I care to tell about. I've never loved anyone the way I love you."

The declaration made Harry's heart dance. "I do love you, too, Draco. I've loved friends before: Ron, Hermione, Hagrid. But, I've never been IN love before, same as you. Maybe that's the point. We have to allow ourselves to be open to other loves, in order for us to truly know if this is love, or merely infatuation. Only an honest effort can get us past this madness, Draco. If we don't try, we'll never get a minute's peace—"

"And Hogwarts will be awash in a deluge of sperm!"

"The scroll says we have to choose by tonight. If we'd read the thing last night, instead of falling asleep, we might have avoided some of today's madness."

"Well, I'm not sorry. That was the most restful sleep I've ever had. I can't wait to fall asleep in your arms again." He leaned in to kiss Harry, but as their lips neared, a disk of white light appeared between them. It startled them, and they backed away from it. It vanished. "What the bloody hell is THIS, now?"

"Wait," said Harry. He reached for Draco's crotch, but the disk reappeared between his hand and its goal. He retracted his hand, and the light faded. He then reached for Draco's shoulder, finding he could grasp it without impedance. "It would appear that we are doomed to be platonic friends until this is settled."

"Bloody fucking hell!" Draco screamed. "I could cut my father's bollocks off for this, Harry! I hate this!"

"So do I, Draco. But it seems we have little choice." He took Draco's hand in his own. "I love you, Draco. We'll get through this."

"Who will you choose, Harry? Never mind. I expect I'll be quite jealous of whomever you choose. The `old' Malfoy still keeps a room in here, you know," Draco said, indicating his heart.

"Yes, well, maybe this test will serve as his eviction notice. I can't imagine loving anyone else, Draco."

"Maybe you should pick Longbottom," Draco suggested. He figured no one could fall truly in love with the hapless boy. "He's been wandering the halls with a hard-on all day. Poor sap doesn't know there's a cure for it."

"Poor Neville," Harry said, shaking his head. "I couldn't. I wouldn't want to know that his first time was under the influence of a charm. No, I'll pick someone with experience. Someone who might have fancied me before all this started."

"Well, don't expect me to shag Crabbe or Goyle! I don't think I could love anyone I don't respect, and I certainly don't respect anyone as brainless and sycophantic as those two oafs. This may narrow my choices considerably."

"Well, we'd better get to it." He took Draco's hands, and brought them to his cheek.

Knowing they wouldn't need the scroll for three weeks, they returned it to its hiding place, before leaving the Potions classroom to explore their romantic options.

CHAPTER 6: Double Dates

Harry didn't have to wait for long. While Draco decided to return to the Slytherin dormitory to think, Harry decided he wanted some fresh air. He ran to the nearest exit, opened the door, and found himself face-to-chin with Oliver Wood.

"Hi, Harry," he said.

"Oliver? I thought you were in London."

"I was. I had a nice visit with mah cousin yest'rday. But late last night, I started feelin' like I wanted t' come back. I dinna want t' be rude, so, I waited 'til after lunch before flyin' back. I told 'im I had Quidditch practice, which wasn'a a lie. I'd've felt bad aboot missin' two in a r—" he stopped short.

"No worries, Oliver. I know it was Draco Malfoy, impersonating you at yesterday's practice."

Oliver was taken aback. "Ye do? How?"

"Not important. I don't plan on telling anyone, Oliver," Harry assured him

Oliver took Harry's face in his hands, brought it to his own, and kissed Harry gently on the lips. "Ye're the best, Harry," he smiled.

Harry enjoyed the kiss. He had always admired Oliver, ever since they'd met, when Oliver taught him the basics of Quidditch. He was still quite innocent back then. He realized now that he'd had a crush on Oliver since that day. Technically, he'd already had sex with Oliver's body, though Oliver wasn't there at the time. Besides, Seamus was off playing with Dean, so he didn't feel like he was intruding. Perhaps that would make this easier.

He didn't withdraw from Oliver's caress. He could feel Oliver's warm breath upon his lips. He lifted his heels, and leaned in to kiss Oliver again. He brushed the tip of his tongue against Oliver's lips. They parted, and Oliver's tongue met his.

It was different than when Draco was using Oliver's tongue to kiss him in the shower. Draco's kiss was full of craving and lust. The real Oliver kissed Harry tenderly, with an affection that had nothing to do with any spell. Harry's affection, too, was genuine. He wrapped his arms around Oliver, and pulled him into an embrace. Oliver ran his fingers through Harry's dark, silky hair, as Harry clutched his shoulders.

When they finally came up for air, Oliver admitted, "I've wanted t' do that f'r the longest time."

"You're a very good kisser, Oliver," Harry said.

"May we go be alone somewhere, Harry?"

"I'd like that."

"I know just the place." Oliver led Harry to a linen closet. It was filled with pillows and bedsheets. It didn't occur to Harry that he'd quite recently enjoyed Draco's company on a similar makeshift bed. He was genuinely looking forward to making love with Oliver.

The bed prepared, Harry began to remove his robes. "Wait," said Oliver. "Let me do that." Harry stood there. Oliver undressed him slowly, between gentle kisses to his face and neck. Harry could feel himself getting hard. He let it happen. He closed his eyes, wallowing in Oliver's gentle touch.

By the time Oliver exposed Harry's Y-fronts, a damp spot had appeared, near the waistband. The head of Harry's penis throbbed against the dampness. Oliver knelt, and touched his tongue to the pulsing fabric. Harry's cock twitched. "Not just yet, ye," he said to the eager member. He kissed it through the fabric, and then slowly stood, planting a row of kisses up Harry's hairless belly, and chest, and neck. He took Harry in his arms, and kissed him slowly and deeply. As they kissed, Oliver let his robes slip to the floor. Harry unbuttoned Oliver's shirt, and helped him slip out of it. He ran his hands over Oliver's chest. It was taut, but not overly muscular. Harry kissed Oliver's nipples, as he unbuttoned Oliver's trousers. He could feel Oliver's hardness trying to escape its captivity. He saw the older boy was also wearing Y-fronts, and they, too, were quite damp.

Oliver's trousers joined the pile of clothing, and soon, both boys were clad only in their rapidly moistening underwear. They knelt without breaking this newest kiss, both content with what they were doing. Neither was in any hurry. They caressed every part of each other, scattering kisses, like rose petals, all over each other's body.

Finally, Oliver guided Harry up onto his feet. He took Harry's hand, and placed it on his own waistband, as he reached for Harry's Y-fronts. Harry ran his finger down the trail of sparse hairs that led from Oliver's navel to his waistband. They slid each other's Y-fronts down, together. They each looked down at the other's hardness, and then they gazed into each other's eyes. Both boys saw true affection. Oliver smiled his dazzling smile, and Harry's breath was taken away. His knees went weak, and he fell to them. Before Oliver could join him, Harry pressed against his thighs, urging him to remain standing.

He stroked the length of Oliver's manhood with his cheek. He inhaled the sweet, musky scent of this young man whom he admired, and who desired him. Harry gasped as the fragrance sent a jolt to his desire. His lips and tongue attacked Oliver relentlessly. Oliver moaned and moaned, as Harry licked and sucked like a madman. Oliver's knees gave out from the pleasure of it, and he fell backward onto the pillows. Harry felt him go, and was able to stay with him as he reclined. He didn't miss a beat.

Harry was insatiable. He gobbled Oliver to the root. Oliver moaned and panted. He was lost in the passion. He found his voice at the critical moment. "Och, Harry! I—I—ohhhhh!" With that, he exploded in Harry's mouth.

Harry drank in the sweet, creamy essence of Oliver Wood. It tasted much like his own. It was a few moments before Oliver could speak. "Och, Harry. That was incredible. Where did ye learn t' do that?"

Harry smiled. "I couldn't help myself. I've thought about you for a while, too."

Oliver caressed Harry's cheek. They kissed. Oliver could taste himself. He broke the kiss long enough to whisper, "Yer turn. Fast, or slow?" He didn't wait for an answer before returning to Harry's mouth.

Harry tried to respond anyway. "Slowly... I'm not... going... anywhere." Oliver broke the kiss. He stroked his cheek against Harry's. Harry relished the feeling of Oliver's cheek against his skin. He could tell it was the cheek of someone who shaved more frequently than he. This older boy was treating him like they'd been in love forever. Harry felt adored.

Oliver moved downward. He took Harry into his mouth, and then began to suck him slowly and gently. Harry was overwhelmed. He was sure he would climax immediately. He had to fight to hold back, as Oliver sucked him deeply, moaning as he did. He bucked and twitched, trying not to come. It was no use. His last rational thought was one of self-preservation. He grabbed a pillow, and screamed into it at he emptied himself into Oliver's eager mouth.

Oliver tasted Harry's sweetness. It sent his mouth into overdrive. He tripled the pace of his sucking, willing every last drop from Harry. Harry screamed and screamed into the pillow. His body twitched in spasms of a seemingly endless orgasm, and this served as inspiration for Oliver to continue.

Oliver kept sucking, even though Harry was spent. Harry finally found the strength to push him away. "Stop! Stop! I can't take any more!" Oliver laughed, as he moved up to cradle Harry in his arms. They stayed together like that, silently, unmoving, for several minutes.

"Ye feel s' good in m' arms, Harry. We fit, like hand-in-glove."

Harry nuzzled closer to Oliver. He felt safe and loved. He realized he loved Oliver. And he was sure Oliver loved him, too. Though he couldn't put it into words, it was different somehow from the love he felt for Draco. He had a lot to think about, and his week with Oliver was just beginning.

Draco also chose his first new love with little difficulty. When he arrived in the Slytherin common room, Adrian Pucey, Slytherin's Chaser, was alone in the room.

"Hello, Draco," he smiled.

"Where is everyone?" Draco asked.

"I sent them all away to their afternoon classes. I wanted to be here when you returned."

Draco was confused. "How did you know I'd be coming here?"

"You've been storming around the school in a huff all morning. You always come here and give everyone the boot when you want to be alone. It was a simple deduction, for anyone who takes the time to notice your habits."

"You notice my habits?"

"Of course, Draco. You're a beautiful young man. Who wouldn't notice you? You surround yourself with the appropriate amount of Slytherin attitude, of course. We all do. But you're a master at it. We may get up to nasty business from time to time, but we're not all bloody evil. You're smart, talented, and I find your imperiousness quite sexy."

Draco knew instinctively that Adrian's expressions of admiration were sincere. This was no love spell that had infiltrated the school. The spell was merely magnifying feelings that were repressed, or dormant.

He thought about Adrian, who was almost two years his senior. He admired Adrian's skill at Quidditch; that much was certain. And, though he'd never gotten around to acting upon them, he'd had more than one naughty thought about what he'd like to do with Adrian's body. He'd seen it, of course, for modesty was not a big issue at Slytherin. Orgies occurred nightly, and, unless one was involved, one ignored them, as a matter of course.

Much bedhopping occurred, as well. They were a bunch of selfish and hormone-driven individuals, after all. There wasn't much romance in Slytherin House, though. It was more a house of conquest. Adrian's declaration, therefore, seemed out of character, only in that most Slytherins didn't discuss their feelings with each other.

Draco had never known such feelings until Harry. He began to seriously wonder if he, indeed, could have such feelings for anyone else. He decided then to choose Adrian. "Sexy, am I?" he asked playfully.

"Oh, yes," Adrian said.

"What do you want to do about it, Adrian? What do you want to do with me?" Draco hardened immediately. He began rubbing himself through his robes.

"I want to bugger the shite out of you, and then I want you to do the same to me."

"Kiss me, Adrian," Draco commanded.

"Try and stop me," Adrian smiled. He lunged at Draco. Their lips met, and their tongues writhed together. Soon, their clothes had flown to all corners of the room, and they were rolling around near the fire. They were so aroused that they needed no other lubrication. They took turns fucking each other, twice each.

After his second, mind-shattering orgasm, Draco rolled off of Adrian. They rose, covered in sweat and stickiness. They walked to the bathroom, each with one arm around the other. "I enjoyed that, Draco. I hope this wasn't a one-off. If I could rouse my John Thomas again, I'd do it right now!"

"Well, Adrian," Draco replied, rather cryptically, "I can promise you at least a week." He was fairly well bound to, but he wasn't about to tell that to Adrian.

He and Adrian spent every free moment together that week, as did Harry and Oliver. It wasn't just sex, though. Both couples found contentment in just being alone together, whether engaged in conversation or not. Draco and Adrian enjoyed taking walks around the grounds. Often, they'd find a secluded place to explore each other's bodies, and experiment with sexual positions.

Oliver and Harry spent a lot of time on the Quidditch pitch. Oliver taught him several flying maneuvers. Harry was an apt pupil in this area, as well. One afternoon, Oliver wanted to try something, but he wouldn't tell Harry what it was. He told Harry to grab his broom, and meet him about a hundred meters above the pitch. He was to wear nothing under his robes. Harry was intrigued. He couldn't roam the corridors with his bare legs sticking out from beneath his robes, so he left for his tryst directly from his bedroom window.

Harry arrived at the rendezvous, and Oliver proceeded to swing around, so that their brooms were parallel, side-by-side, facing each other. He lifted his leg, and straddled Harry's broom, as well. He indicated Harry should do the same.

They faced each other, balanced upon their brooms. They embraced and kissed. "Lean back, Harry, and straddle the brooms with your armpits." He did so, and soon felt a breeze tickle his bollocks, as Oliver lifted Harry's robes, and climbed inside. Harry tried to watch, but holding his head up was difficult. Besides, he couldn't see what Oliver was doing anyway, seeing that his head was buried beneath the folds of Harry's robes. It didn't take him long to realize what Oliver was doing.

Oliver sucked him ravenously, and Harry's climax was rapidly approaching. Oliver could sense this, and just as Harry past the point-of-no-return, Oliver directed the brooms into a nosedive. The combination of the falling sensation and the orgasm almost made Harry pass out. Oliver pulled up on the brooms, and their flight path arced within two meters of the ground. They zoomed upward, as Harry's climax subsided. Soon, they were back where they started.

"That was wicked," Harry gasped, borrowing Ron's favorite adjective.

"Care t' reciprocate, Harry?" Oliver asked, wiping his chin. His voice was slightly gurgled by the sweetness that was still swimming in his throat.

"Of course! I just hope I don't get us killed!"

"I trust ye." He kissed Harry. Oliver had kept a bit of Harry's nectar tucked in his cheek. He passed it to Harry during the kiss. Harry was surprised, but the sweet taste excited him. They savored the flavor together. Finally, they parted. "Ye're so delicious, Harry! I'll bet Bertie Bott has nae got THAT flavor in his box of beans!" They laughed together.

Harry then, gently, urged Oliver to recline. He fumbled with the hem of Oliver's robes, and was soon hard at work, pleasuring his idol. Soon, his chin felt Oliver's bollocks contract, and his penis stiffen in preparation of his climax. "Now, Harry! Now!" Oliver shouted.

Harry was a talented broom-jockey, but he'd never attempted a maneuver like this before. He sent them spiraling downward at incredible speed, as Oliver flooded his mouth. Harry loved the taste of Oliver. It was almost fatal. He pulled out of the dive in time to brush the grass with the bristles of his broom. Harry began to relax as soon as they'd cleared the turn. Oliver was still spurting as they climbed.

Harry parked them a hundred meters above the ground, his lips still wrapped around Oliver's softening member. He broke the contact, a reservoir of Oliver's sweetness tucked safely in his cheek. He pulled Oliver into a kiss. Oliver smiled, as he realized Harry had returned yet another favor. When their lips finally parted, Harry said, with a naughty smile, "Fuck Bertie Bott!" They shared a right bellylaugh.

Draco and Harry only ran into each other a handful of times that week, but neither seemed anxious to discuss their experiences. They developed an unspoken understanding that they wouldn't compare notes until the week was over. And soon, it was.

On the night of the seventh day, they met in the Divination classroom. Neither wanted to be the first to speak.

"Well?" Draco finally ventured.

"I've had a great time with Oliver," Harry began. Draco felt his heart sink, until Harry continued. "I do love him, Draco, but not the way I love you. With him, it was more like hero-worship. We'll be friends forever, but I'd still rather be with you."

Draco's heart soared. "I feel the same way about Adrian. He's a wonderful bloke, but I still want you!"

Harry reached out to him, but, remembering the ban, retracted his hand before the magickal light appeared.

"I've been thinking about the bloody restriction, Harry. I may have discovered a loophole." Harry raised a curious eyebrow. "Let's watch each other, while we rub one off."

"I wonder if that's allowed."

"Only one way to know," Draco said, as he began peeling off his clothes. Harry did the same. As he pulled down his Y-fronts, Draco chuckled.

"I don't think I've ever seen that thing pointing at the floor," he giggled.

"Same here," Harry realized. "We should remedy the situation."

"I agree." They began stroking themselves. Their eyes were starved for the sight of each other. But nothing happened.

Realization came slowly, but, once it did, Draco was livid. "BLOODY-GODDAM-FUCKING-HELL!" he roared.

"Now, we know," Harry said, glumly.

"Fuck! Fuck!! FUCK!!!" Draco continued to curse, as he scooped up his clothes. "I can't stand this, Harry!"

Harry began to dress. "Perhaps we should avoid each other until this is over. It's painful not to be able to hold you."

Draco resigned himself to the situation. "You're right," he sighed. "I suppose I'll see you in a fortnight." He clasped Harry's hand. "I love you, Harry."

"I love you, too."

The second week of the test brought new partners into their lives, but not before Adrian and Oliver had been encountered. Harry and Draco discovered that their former paramours remembered nothing of the sexual adventures they had shared. The lustful passions had been replaced with profound affection and friendship. None of the other boys seemed to remember any of the sexual escapades that had recently permeated the school. Harry and Draco were free to choose this week's lover.

Harry spent the second week with Colin, who couldn't have been happier. Harry had awoken in the middle of the night to find that Colin had crept into his bed. He was now sleeping peacefully, with his cheek resting against Harry's chest. He was naked. Harry knew Colin idolized him, and he decided that he would be a good choice for the second week of the test.

Harry stroked Colin's hair. Colin stirred. He gazed up at Harry, lovingly. "All right, Harry?"

Harry kissed the top of his head. "All right, Colin."

Colin smiled, and drifted off to sleep. Harry cuddled Colin, and joined him in slumber.

When Harry woke, he felt the still-sleeping Colin's hand inside his pajama trousers, wrapped around his morning erection. He rocked his hips gently, seeking friction against Colin's fingers. The motion felt marvelous, and Harry's erection grew stronger.

Colin came to wakefulness. He realized what Harry was doing, so he tightened his grip. He used his free hand to tug on the drawstring of Harry's pajamas, as he, also, hardened. He looked up at Harry, and was greeted with a warm smile.

Harry rolled Colin over on his back, rose to his knees, and stripped off his pajama top. He kicked off the bottoms, and then bent to lick Colin's nearly hairless bollocks. Colin's prick danced a jig of joy. He swung around, so that their mouths could explore each other. They kissed, for a while, and then Harry returned to Colin's stiffness.

Harry sucked him so hard that, when he came, his yelp woke all the other boys in the dormitory. Harry was mortified, and his own erection began to diminish. He then remembered that `oblivious' was the keyword of the month, and that none of them would remember any of this. He screwed up his courage, and so did his erection.

The other boys watched, as Colin sucked Harry's cock like a nursing puppy. Most of them yanked on themselves, as Colin went to town. Harry could tell that Colin was less experienced than his previous partners, but he enjoyed the blowjob, nonetheless. There was tenderness here, but not passion. He was able to keep his wits as his own climax approached.

"I'm coming, Colin," he warned. Colin drew his mouth away. He wanted to watch Harry come. He used his hand to furiously stroke Harry, who was now slick with Colin's saliva, as well as his own moisture. The change in grip and tempo sent Harry over. A pearly stream shot straight up into the air, and then landed on Harry's belly. Colin grabbed some, and rolled it between his fingers.

"Was that okay, Harry?" Colin asked.

"It was very good, Colin." He pulled Colin to him, and into a kiss. Colin was awkward, obviously inexperienced. "Have you done this before?"

"No. I really wanted you to be my first. I spied on the Weasley twins once, last year, as they were fooling around with Lee Jordan. I tried what they were doing. You don't know how many times I've thought about this. Well, you would have, if we didn't have to wear robes all the time. My prick gets hard every time I'm near you!"

Colin's confession had an erotic effect on their audience. Half a dozen boys were now spattering the floor with their first loads of the day. Harry led Colin past them, and into the bathroom. They shared the big cauldron. Harry tenderly bathed the younger boy. When they left the bath, the other Gryffindors had cleaned up their mess, and gone down to breakfast.

Draco's morning went similarly. Half awake, he stumbled into the bathroom, clad only in royal purple, silk boxers. His morning erection had subsided slightly, after being ignored. He was still quite sleepy, and had no desire to exert the effort required to draw a bath. He walked toward the shower stalls. He heard water running, and halfheartedly wondered who was in there.

It was Theodore Nott. Draco stopped to watch him shower. Theodore was the same age as Draco, but was several centimeters taller. He was thin as a rail, and Draco wondered how he was able to even get wet under the shower's spray. His back was to Draco, and he was rinsing his hair.

The `old' Malfoy treated Theodore like a crony. Not quite an equal, mind you, but infinitely better than he regarded Crabbe and Goyle. Draco knew Theodore admired his wizarding skills, his devilishness, and his body. He'd caught Theodore spying on him while he was shagging some Hufflepuff, whose name escaped him at the moment. Theodore didn't realize he'd been nicked. He continued wanking, as Draco, captivated by Theodore's huge erection, decided to give him a real show. He buggered the anonymous Hufflepuff boy, as if he was competing for a trophy. The sheer volume of the puddle Theodore left on the floor was rave review enough for Draco. The memory of it caused Draco's cock to pop out of the fly of his boxers. As it passed against the silk, it sent a tingle up Draco's spine. He uttered a small sound.

Theodore turned to see Draco pointing right at him. Draco watched the water run down Theodore's belly, past his outie navel, through the forest of his curls and off his enormous cock. It was soft, and, although his bollocks hung quite low, it hung much lower. He couldn't understand why he'd never gotten around to sampling the giant member before. He was not about to waste this opportunity.

Draco shed his boxers. Without a word, he marched over to Theodore, and pulled him into a kiss, sealing the deal for the next seven days. He dropped to his knees, and licked Theodore's cock until it stood at attention. Only then, did he speak. "I want this inside of me." He stood, turned, and offered his bum to his housemate. Theodore complied.

He rammed his huge member into Draco, like it was trying to get home. Draco, hands braced upon the wall, felt like his arse was being torn asunder. Theodore reached around, and pumped Draco's hardness while he plowed away from behind. As Draco spattered the wall, Theodore came inside him. They stayed in that position, motionless, as the wave of ecstasy ebbed. Finally, Theodore's cock softened, and slipped out of Draco's now-tender bum.

Things went pretty much as expected for both Harry and Draco. Harry spent the week teaching Colin all the tricks he had recently learned, while Draco and Theodore used their time together to discover many interesting things to do with Theodore's prick.

At the end of the week, both boys had realized a pattern was forming. The first part of the test had involved boys they'd admired. The second concerned boys who'd admired them. They were curious as to what would happen during the third week. Both boys had wanted to discuss their theories with each other, but they'd agreed to maintain their distance.

In the end, neither Harry nor Draco had found love worthy of forsaking what they'd shared together, so they resigned themselves to the third week of the test.

Draco expected Fate to be just snarky enough to foist off either Crabbe or Goyle on him, as his third temporary lover. He was in no hurry to face whatever this first day would bring. He banished everyone from the dormitory, and crawled back into bed. He was about to roll over, and try to go back to sleep, when he heard a shuffling noise approaching his bed.

Before he realized that he could see no one else in the room, a body began to appear from beneath an Invisibility Cloak. "Harry!" he smiled.

"Sorry, Draco. It's me. Hope you're not too disappointed." It was Justin Finch-Fletchley.

"Where did you get that Cloak?" Draco demanded.

"Well, you thought I was Harry, so, you obviously know it's his." Justin began to fold the Cloak neatly. "He lent it to me. I told him I needed to speak with you privately. He confided in me about his Cloak. Said the strangest thing, too. Something about always being able to trust a Hufflepuff with secrets, especially this week. I didn't understand that last bit, but I was grateful for the Cloak, nonetheless."

"Leave it to Harry," Draco thought to himself. He could reveal the Cloak's existence to Justin, and at week's end, Justin would forget he'd ever seen it. Evidently, Harry approved of Justin as a match for Draco, else he would not have lent him the Cloak. Justin. A nice enough bloke, Draco surmised, though he didn't know him well, at all. He was a Hufflepuff, and, according to the Sorting Hat, Hufflepuffs made loyal and trustworthy friends. That must be the key to this week's choice, he deduced.

"We got both angles of the hero-worship thing covered," he thought. "I understand the difference between that and love. Lust and love have also been separated. What next, but a true rival for my heart? A boy who would be as loyal to me as Harry."

"Draco? What are you thinking?"

"Scroll be damned!" Draco was thinking. He had to know his heart for himself. He didn't know a bloody thing about love, he admitted to himself. He decided to give Justin a fair chance.

"I'm thinking that I'd like to know why you are here."

"Well," Justin said, "Ever since you caught me rubbing one off in the Hall, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind. I have a lot of respect for you, and wanted to get to know you better." There was a note of confidence in Justin's voice that Draco admired. He didn't sound cocky in the least. He was being open and curious, but not in a lustful way, at all. "We have a lot more in common than you may think."

"I'm beginning to believe you may be right, Justin." Draco pulled back the covers of his bed. "Come on in. Let's chat."

Justin stripped down to his cotton boxers, stacking his folded garments atop the Cloak. He scooted into bed. They lay shoulder-to-shoulder as they spoke.

"I think there's more to you than you let on, Draco. I'm guessing it's because your old man is such a git. I figure you could use a friend. Someone to talk to, who won't judge you. Am I right?"

Draco thought about this. Harry wasn't the only one who could use Justin's eventual forgetfulness to serve the situation. He decided to tell Justin everything. He told him about the scroll, the discovery of his love for Harry, the test, everything. He fought back tears as he expressed his anger and confusion and frustration.

Justin reached over, and pulled Draco into an embrace. "It's fucking madness, Draco. You have every right to be furious. Well, I'll tell you this: You really need a friend more than you need a sex partner for the week."

"You're right, but if I don't choose someone, the madness will escalate."

"Then, choose me."

"What?"

"It makes perfect sense. It's obvious that Fate, or the scroll, has led me here. All I can do is offer to be someone you can talk to, cry to, or make love to. Whatever you need." He comforted Draco by gently stroking his flaxen hair.

"I'd like that," Draco smiled. " I'll have to kiss you, to make the choice official, but I really don't feel up to any sex right now."

Justin smiled back. "I understand." He urged Draco to him. "You're safe with me."

Justin's kiss set Draco free. He felt something he never felt with Harry. Harry was naïve, when it came to worldly matters. In some ways, Draco would always have to look after him. With Justin, who was obviously wiser than his years, Draco could let go, release control, and not have to worry about running every show. Justin would take care of him, help him to heal his damaged psyche, and love him without reservation.

An image of Justin, exposed under the Slytherin table, came unbidden to his mind. Draco kissed Justin again. "I've changed my mind, Justin. Would you make love to me?"

Justin planted kisses on both of Draco's cheeks. "Are you certain?" he asked.

"I need to feel loved."

"It won't be love, Draco. Not yet. Affection, yes, and true. But, love takes time. Tell me, Draco. How do you feel about Harry right now?"

"I love him," he admitted.

Justin caressed Draco's face, and lowered it to rest upon his chest. "Then close your eyes, and dream of Harry. We'll work this out."

Draco drifted off in short order.

Harry's third-week experience was eerily similar. The truest friend he'd ever known was to be Bachelor Number Three.

Harry woke to find a note tucked between his chest and the bedclothes:

"Meet me in the Room of Requirement. Now."

Harry recognized the scrawl. It was Ron's. Harry wondered if Ron was to be his Chosen One for the week, or if he was merely up to some other business. He dressed quickly.

As he was just passing through the Fat Lady's portal, he ran into Justin. For a moment, Harry wondered if perhaps Justin was to be his lover instead, but he was seeking advice on how to get to Draco. Harry understood. He also knew that Justin was a good person, and would treat Draco well. That's when he decided to offer Justin the use of his Cloak. He gave Justin a quick demonstration, and then, sent him on his way.

Harry made his way to the seventh floor. Across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, was the magickal Room of Requirement. Harry opened the door, and was greeted by Ron's goofy smile.

"Hi, Harry!"

"Hi, Ron. What's up?"

"Harry, I need to talk to you." Harry could sense where this was going. "Do you remember that first morning we wanked together?"

"Of course. How could I forget. It was brilliant."

"It was. But, we were both a bit awkward, by today's standards. We've been best friends for years, but we've never properly... you know—"

"Made love?"

"Well, yeah," Ron blushed.

Harry considered the implications of proceeding. He already loved Ron, but as a friend and brother. Could he become passionate with him? Would it be unfair to use his body for a week, and then leave him to forget it ever happened? No.

"Ron, I have to tell you something."

"What is it, Harry?" Ron saw the trepidation in Harry's face, and was genuinely concerned. "Is it Malfoy? What's he done now?"

"In a way. Sit down." Harry explained the events of the previous two weeks. He debated about whether to give Ron a report on what he'd been up to over the past weeks, but decided the whole truth would serve him best. He stammered a bit when he got to the part about walking in on Ron and his brothers. He told Ron of his invitation to Harry.

"No worries, mate," Ron assured him. "The twins have been shagging me since right after our time in the cauldron. The bloody scroll had nothing to do with it."

"What about Hermione?" Harry asked.

"She doesn't have sex, Harry. We just kiss. Bloody frustrating, I tell you! If I didn't have the twins to suck me off, every now and again, I'd be in a rubber room at St. Mungo's!"

Harry finished relating the details of the last two week's events, and, only when he was finished, did Ron speak again.

"The bit I don't understand is Malfoy. How did you melt his icy heart so quickly? Was that part of the spell?"

"No, Ron. Believe it or not, Draco and I have a lot in common. Both raised in abusive homes. Both forced to shoulder responsibilities we didn't ask for. Both lonely. Both desperate to have someone in our lives who truly understands what we've been through. We fit. We belong together."

"I don't understand how you can forgive all the horrid things he's done, but, if you can, well, that's good enough for me. What can I do to help?"

"Let me choose you."

Ron grinned. "Spell or not, I'll do anything I can to help you, Harry. You're my best friend, and always will be. Pucker up, mate! We've got some snoggin' to do!"

Harry laughed as he fell into Ron's open arms. Their kiss was pure, and full of joy, and trust. It wasn't nearly as awkward as the first one they shared. The swelling in Ron's trousers pressed against Harry's crotch, which swelled to meet it. They felt each other.

"Yeah?" asked Ron.

"Yeah," Harry replied.

"Okay, but nothing you haven't already done with Malfoy," Ron warned. You've never shagged, nor been shagged. If he IS your true love, he should be your first." It was just Ron's way of looking out for his friend. Harry loved him all the more for it.

No further words were necessary. What was happening between them felt so natural, so overdue. They watched each other undress, and then, holding hands, they walked over to the bed. They kissed, and sucked each other. It felt as natural to them as breathing.

Both Harry and Draco felt wonderful, as the day wore on. They both decided, independently, to forgo their classes. They took their current beaus for a stroll around the Hogwarts grounds. Harry and Draco felt a bit awkward as they ran into each other near Hagrid's house.

"Draco!"

"Harry!"

Neither of them knew what else to say. Justin rescued them from the uncomfortable silence. "Not to worry, you two," he assured them. "All is well. Draco explained everything."

Harry was amazed that he and Draco were on the same page. "I told Ron, too." They were free to discuss the situation freely, so Harry and Draco filled each other in on the missing pieces of the previous days.

It was obvious to Justin and Ron that Harry and Draco longed to be with each other. Ron scratched his head, racking his brain for some way to help his friend. Justin beat him to an answer. He tugged Ron's arm. "Come along, Ron!"

Draco asked the inevitable question first. "Where are you going?"

"Meet us in the Room of Requirement in ten minutes." Ron almost lost his footing, as Justin dragged him away.

"What do you suppose they're up to?" asked Harry.

"I don't know, but I don't want to miss it. Let's start walking."

The strolled back to the school, and made their way up the maze of changing staircases to the seventh floor. They arrived at the Room of Requirement, and calculated they still had a few minutes to spare. Draco knocked, impatiently. "Oi. May we come in?"

"'alf a mo', Guv," chuckled Ron.

Harry waited patiently, but Draco tapped his foot. His curiosity was gnawing at him. Finally, they heard Justin's voice through the door. "Show yourselves in."

Harry and Draco looked at each other, and then entered the room together. Despite all the scenarios that they pictured during their walk, nothing had prepared them for what they saw.

The room was lit by hundreds of slender, white candles, which were suspended in mid-air. The ceiling of the room had been charmed to display a starry, night sky. On a table near the door, a pitcher of butterbeer and two mugs served as centerpiece to a spread of various biscuits and chocolates.

Against the far wall, an enormous four-poster bed was clothed in shiny, blue-black, silk sheets. Upon the bed, mugs of butterbeer in hand, knelt a naked Harry Potter and a naked Draco Malfoy. They raised their mugs in salute. `Harry' spoke. "Lose the clothes, boyos! Here's to true love!"

"Oi, Malfoy!" `Draco' said, looking down at himself. "Nice cock you've got here!" He gave it a small tweak.

"Weasley!" Draco exclaimed. "What are you doing in my body?"

"You want to snog with Harry. He wants to snog with you. The scroll's charm won't let you, so we found the next best thing!" Draco was rattled by hearing Ron's voice come out of his face.

"Come on, Draco." Justin's voice was soothing to Draco. And the fact that it was coming out of Harry's mouth made it doubly sweet. "Get undressed. You, too, Harry."

They did just that. They poured themselves some butterbeer, and joined `themselves' on the great bed.

"Here's the thing:" Justin began, "Once we begin, Ron and I will stay silent. You and Draco are to speak to each other, as you make love to us."

Harry stroked Ron's cheek. "We love you for this."

"Anything, Harry. Any time."

Justin reached over to the night table, upon which rested his wand, between two mugs of Polyjuice Potion. With a wave, he extinguished the candles. The room was, now, solely illuminated by the magickal starlight.

Harry and Draco released two-week's worth of pent-up desire, over the course of the next two hours. Halfway through, Justin and Ron had to drink another dose of Potion, but they washed it down with swigs of delicious butterbeer, before returning to the lovemaking. While Draco and Harry could not touch each other, their doppelgangers did their best to accommodate every whim of the guests of honor.

At one point, Draco watched Harry suck his member's stand-in. He became seriously aroused. The `old' Malfoy had always wondered what it would be like to suck on his own cock, but The Polyjuice Solution had never occurred to him. He nudged Harry aside with a naughty gleam in his eye. "Watch this, Harry." He went down on his mirror image. He felt like he was achieving a long-sought prize, and his tongue treated it as such.

Ron felt weird having Malfoy suck him. They'd always been enemies. He was about to break his vow of silence, when Draco's tongue changed his mind. Draco's talent outshone anyone in Ron's past. This was the best blowjob he'd ever had. His eyed rolled up, as Draco attacked him fiercely. Ron, lost in the passion, forgave Draco, in that moment. He swung around, and the two Dracos sucked each other in pefect symmetry.

Harry and Justin watched the two Dracos. Identical erections strained for similar care. Harry looked at his twin, hopefully. Justin took charge, guiding Harry to a penis with which he was intimately familiar. Justin took Harry into his hand, as well.

Soon, both Harrys and both Dracos were rolling around the bed, together, in pairs, in all combinations. Save one. Each time the real Harry approached the real Draco, the magickal barrier appeared, to warn him away. It appeared often, as the four boys played on the bed, for Harry kept losing track of which Draco was which.

They kissed, and caressed, and sucked. Each boy came, at least twice, before all four were spent. As they reclined, savoring the afterglow, the Polyjuice Potion wore off. Harry was lying next to Ron, who was next to Justin. Draco was on Justin's left. Justin's vision improved, as Harry's eyes became his own. Poor Ron watched his cock lose length, and girth, as the silky, blond hairs around it grew curly and orange.

Draco sat up. "This was brilliant. You know, with the charm of forgetfulness that surrounds Hogwarts, we have the run of the entire school. We can do this all week! We could do this at breakfast, right on the faculty dining table, in front of everyone! How brilliant would THAT be?"

"No," Justin said. "I suspect we have to go our separate ways, as couples. If we try to bypass the charm completely, it'll never be broken. You need to see the rest of the scroll. Your lives depend upon it."

"Bloody hell, you're right," Draco conceded. He turned to Harry.

"I agree."

Draco sighed. "Very well." He planted a deep kiss on Justin, and said, "Pass that along the queue, would you?"

Justin turned, passing the kiss to Ron, who, in turn, gave it to Harry.

They dressed. Before they left the room, Draco offered to supply Ron with further Draco potions.

"That might be considered cheating, Draco," Justin figured. "Let's just meet back here at the end of the week, and the four of us will work through this together."

"Good idea," Harry complimented him. "Take good care of him, Justin."

"I promise." Harry gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Draco and Ron gave each other a brief, awkward hug.

"See you in a week," Harry said, as he and Ron departed.

CHAPTER 7: Reunion

Harry and Ron spent nearly all of the following week together. They'd always enjoyed each other's company, anyway. Their bonds of friendship, and love, grew each day. It was like a holiday from all of Harry's worries. Thoughts of his dark and dangerous destiny dissipated, like wisps of smoke in a brisk wind.

During the day, they had fun, playing all sorts of Weasleyesque practical jokes on Snape, who seemed oblivious that four of his pupils had been skipping his class all week. At night, together in Harry's bed, they fell asleep in each other's arms.

They took a trip together, to Hogsmeade, where they ate themselves sick on a lunch of butterbeer and sweets.

The rampant randiness caused by the scroll's charm had subsided, though Hogwarts was still populated by hormone-driven teenagers. One evening, Harry and Ron walked in on Oliver and Seamus, who were making love on Seamus's bed. Harry was glad to know they were back together.

Oliver leaned close to Seamus, and whispered something in his ear. Seamus nodded, and Oliver turned to Harry and Ron. "Would ye come join us?"

Harry looked at Ron, who was staring at the naked boys. His mouth was hanging open, and the front of his trousers was beginning to swell. He had Ron's answer. The thought of being with Oliver again appealed to him, and he'd never been with Seamus. Harry's prick answered for him, as well.

He and Ron shucked off their clothes, and joined the other two.

Meanwhile, Draco had suggested that Justin move into his bed for the week. Despite the eventual forgetfulness, fewer explanations would be necessary than if they'd stayed at Justin's. They shared a marvelous week, as well. They shagged all day, and made their mischief at night.

Draco had created a mental list of fantasies and future sexual conquests, soon after his first, non-solo experience. He confessed this to Justin, one morning, after they had made love.

"Well, Draco," Justin reckoned, "You can't have true love with anyone, if you have a list of regrets hanging over your head." There were seven names on Draco's list. With Justin's help, they managed to seduce all of them into bed, sometimes together, sometimes, just Draco.

The day before the week was to end, one item remained on Draco's list: a particular sexual adventure to which he had just not gotten around. Justin accommodated him, and made all the arrangements. He sent Draco off to bathe. As Draco stepped out of the bath, Justin met him with the largest, softest towel he'd ever seen. He was wearing Draco's favorite dressing gown, with nothing underneath. Justin dried him, slowly, and tenderly, depositing several sweet kisses to Draco's neck along the way.

Justin saw Draco's cock starting to rise. "Patience, love," he whispered in Draco's ear. He finished drying Draco's arms and legs, and then draped one end of the towel over Draco's shoulder. He wrapped the rest of it around Draco, like a toga. He put his hand on Draco's one bare shoulder, and whispered once more. "Ready?"

Draco covered Justin's hand with his own. "Yes."

Justin led Draco into the bedroom. He'd covered Draco's bed in sheets of silk, the purest white. One arm around Draco's shoulders, he walked the guest of honor to the bed. He undraped the towel, and eased Draco onto his back. "Slide over to the center," he urged.

As he glided across the bed, the feel of the silk against his back and bum caused his semi-erect member to fully harden. The pillows were also encased in silk. Justin leaned over the bed, and eased one under Draco's head. He kissed Draco, tenderly. "Now, you're ready."

He stood, and went to open the door that led to the Slytherin common room. A procession of six boys filed in. The queue split, and they surrounded Draco's bed, three on each side. Draco could see that they all were wearing nothing under their school robes. Justin joined them, standing at the foot of the bed.

Draco looked to his left. Adrian Pucey stood between Malcolm Baddock and Graham Pritchard. All three were wearing broad smiles on their faces. On his right, also grinning, were Theodore Nott, and the Weasley twins.

Draco licked his lips, in anticipation of what was about to occur. Justin smiled, and spoke. "Gentlemen?"

As one, all seven boys let their garments slip to the floor. Malcolm and Graham were already hard, their younger pricks always ready for action. The others were in various stages of erection. Draco spread out his arms and legs, to meet them.

Justin crawled up the foot of the bed, as the others leaned over. The septet began stroking themselves, casually, as they covered Draco's body with soft kisses. Draco's cock throbbed. Justin began licking Draco's bollocks, while the others let their tongues travel Draco's arms, legs, and chest.

Justin ran his tongue up the length of Draco's shaft. As he neared the top, he caught Draco's eye. They smiled at each other. Justin sucked him for a while, as the others kissed and licked Draco all over. Several minutes passed, until Justin urged Graham to take his place. The seven boys each rotated one position to the left, and Graham slurped on Draco's cock.

He wasn't as experienced as Justin, of course. Draco didn't mind, though. It still felt great. In turn, the others tended to Draco's erection. Holding back his orgasm became a painful sort of ecstasy. His eyes closed, and he surrendered to the sensations that were overloading his brain.

He strained not to come. His body bucked, and twitched. He couldn't stop moaning. Justin was kissing him. Adrian and Theodore were nibbling at his nipples. Malcolm and Graham were under his raised knees, licking at his arse. Fred and George were astride his cock, licking it in tandem.

He lost the fight. A roar exploded from his throat. His swollen, purple cock shot nearly a dozen pearly jets into the air, between the noses of the Weasleys. Fred leapt on Draco's cock, sucking for all he was worth, as George lapped up the nectar, which had landed on Draco's belly and thighs.

Draco's orgasm finally subsided. He opened his eyes, to see the boys who had just worshipped his body with their tongues, and hands. They knelt around him, stroking themselves for Draco to see. One by one, as their climaxes approached, they moved to Draco's face. He swallowed each cock, in turn, drinking every drop of nectar they had to offer.

Malcolm was first. His orgasm was brief, but violent. He pumped himself dry, as Graham shouted, "Hurry! Hurry!" Malcolm pulled away, and Graham nudged him, eager to stick his prick in Draco's mouth. He barely made it. He spurted immediately.

Theodore was next. He tasted deliciously familiar, as did Adrian. The Weasley twins approached Draco together. They pointed their identical pricks at Draco's mouth. He opened his mouth as wide as he could, and took in both heads. Fred and George emptied themselves into Draco's eager mouth. He nearly choked on the sheer volume of the double-climax.

The six who had finished continued to caress Draco with their hands and lips, as Justin approached Draco's face. He kissed Draco, and whispered, "Save some for me." Draco reached up and cupped Justin's bollocks, taking an active role for the first time, since he left his bath. He greedily sucked on Justin, who came with an extended groan. Draco dared not swallow. He sucked until Justin was spent, and then they shared Justin's taste, as they clung to each other, in a wild embrace.

The other six, watching this passionate exchange, grew hot again. Draco and Justin writhed together, kissing like mad, and running their hands over each other. The others knelt around them, each pulling their way toward a second climax.

Six fountains soon showered Draco and Justin with silvery rain. The sextet collapsed in heap, atop them. Draco felt warm, but not smothered. They savored the satisfaction their orgasms brought. One by one, they rose, kissed Draco deeply, retrieved their robes, and left.

Draco and Justin were alone, on the bed. Draco stroked Justin's hair, scooping up a bit of someone's nectar along the way. He placed the finger between their faces. They licked it clean together. "Was that satisfactory, Mr. Malfoy?" Justin teased.

"Absolutely! But, we're both a sticky mess!"

Justin grinned. "We can fix that." He scooped Draco up in his arms, and carried him to the bath.

Harry and Ron also took a bath together, after staying in bed all day with Oliver and Seamus. They didn't bother dressing, as they were heading off to sleep, straightaway. They scampered, naked, to Harry's bed, and crawled under the covers. They snuggled together, and Ron, suddenly, began weeping.

"What's wrong, Ron?" Harry asked.

"I love you, Harry," Ron sobbed.

"I love you, too, Ron. Why are you sad?"

Ron's eyes pled for solace. "It's over, Harry! Tomorrow, I'll forget any of this ever happened!"

Harry pulled him close, and held him tightly. "Listen to me, Ron Weasley!" he said, with an air of authority in his voice. He took Ron's face in his hands, and looked directly into Ron's eyes. "I love you. You're my best friend, and always will be. You've made these past weeks bearable for me, Ron, but I need to be with Draco, now. I feel that. It's meant to be." Tears were streaming down Ron's cheeks. "But, I also know this," Harry continued, "This will NOT be the last time we are together. Draco's insatiable. I'll never keep up with him, and I don't need to be exclusively with him to know that our love for each other is secure. He can shag anyone he wants, and I won't be jealous. I'll find time for us, Ron. I swear it." He kissed Ron's tears.

Ron smiled. "Perhaps I can teach George how to suck a proper cock, while I wait."

Harry smiled. "That's the spirit! Don't fret, Ron. You'll see. We'll all be happy."

Ron grabbed Harry as tightly as he could. Harry could hardly breathe. "I love you, Harry. I love you. I love you. I love you!"

Harry tightened his embrace. "I love you, too, Ron. Always."

Justin settled into Draco's bed for, perhaps, the last time. Draco nestled into the crook of Justin's arm. "I'm going to miss the memory of this," Justin said.

"I'll tell you all about it in the morning," Draco assured him. "After all, you're going to wonder why you woke up in my bed."

"It won't be the same, Draco," he moped. "I've fallen in love with you, Draco. Even if it can't last, I want to treasure these memories, not give them up." A single tear fell.

"I do love you, Justin, but—"

"You're heart lies with Harry. I've known that all along. It doesn't make this hurt any less, though."

Draco, too, began to weep. They clutched each other tightly, and fell asleep in each other's arms.

Harry woke to the feeling of his face being smothered by kisses. He opened one eye. It was Ron. "Wake up, Harry! Wake up! I remember! I remember it all!"

Harry sat up. The implication of what Ron had said began to register with Harry. He leapt from the bed. "C'mon," he whispered, so as not to wake the other boys. "We've got to find Draco and Justin."

They threw on jeans and t-shirts, without socks or underwear. They ran, barefoot, toward the Slytherin dormitories, but ran into Draco and Justin, along the way. Justin was carrying Harry's Cloak.

"Harry!" Draco ran into Harry's arms. They kissed, for the first time in three weeks. Their tongues devoured each other, as Ron and Justin watched, feeling wistfully happy for them. Justin put his arm around Ron, giving his shoulder a knowing squeeze.

Ron clasped the hand on his shoulder, and smiled at Justin, teary-eyed. "Thanks, mate."

Harry and Draco held hands, as the foursome stole away to the Room of Requirement. Once inside, Harry and Draco resumed their kissing. Ron was feeling embarrassed, and a bit jealous, despite the fact that this same group had been cavorting with each other just a week ago.

Justin understood Ron's feelings. His were different. His love for Draco grew stronger at seeing him reunited with Harry. He was genuinely happy for Draco.

Justin pulled Ron to face him. "It'll be all right, Ron. We'll get through this. Together." He didn't know Ron very well, before these magickal shenanigans began, but, in the brief time since The Polyjuice Affair, he'd developed a protective affection for him. He gave Ron a gentle kiss, on the lips.

Draco started tugging Harry's t-shirt over his head. Justin looked up from Ron, and said to Draco, "Oi, you! Back in your trousers! You've got a scroll to read!"

Draco released Harry, reluctantly. "It's over in Potions," Harry remembered.

"Which is why I brought back your Cloak," exclaimed Justin, as he handed it over. "We'll wait here. Hurry back."

Harry and Draco slipped under the Cloak, and left. Justin noted that Ron still looked a bit depressed. He hooked his arm around Ron's shoulder, as he had done before. "Y'know, Ron," he teased, "The last time I sucked your cock, it was wearing a Draco mask. They can't move too quickly under that Cloak. We have plenty of time. Mind if I have a go at the real thing?"

Ron blushed. "Really? You want to?"

"Oh, yeah. We have to look after each other, now." Justin used his tongue to part Ron's teeth.

Meanwhile, Harry and Draco were making their way toward Snape's classroom. When they arrived, they realized how much time they'd lost. Class was in session. They had no idea if the charm of obliviousness was still in effect. They tiptoed in, almost bumping into a chair, along the way.

Curse Snape! He was standing directly on the magicked floorboard. They looked at each other, searching each other's face for signs of an idea. Harry raised his free hand, and indicated that they should wait, and watch.

"Mister Potter!" Snape snarled. Harry was startled. He almost fell out from beneath the Cloak. Suddenly, he realized that Snape was not addressing him. He was talking to the empty stool beside Hermione. "What herb is the basis for the most effective treatment of pixie-itch?" There was a pause. "Correct." Harry was taken aback. He wondered what hallucination the charm was providing the rest of the school. Especially, since he had no idea which herb cured pixie-itch.

Obviously, their comings-and-goings were still protected by the scroll's magic. No one in the classroom would remember anything about what Harry and Draco were doing. They shed the Cloak with a flourish, and appeared, from thin air, beside Snape, who recoiled in surprise.

"Potter! Malfoy!" He looked back to where the illusions of Harry and Draco had been sitting. Both stools were empty. "Explain this!" he commanded.

Harry moved to speak, but Draco held him back. "Allow me, Harry." He turned to Snape, and years of repressed venom began to spew from his mouth.

"You right bastard! FUCK YOU! You've been torturing us for years, now, you bloody twat, and I'm bloody well SICK of it!"

Snape was livid. His face went red, and the rest of the class was stunned into silence. "Malfoy—!" Snape began.

"Shut your gob, you greasy ponce! I'm not through with you! Harry and I are together, now! And, one of these days, we're going make sure you get what's coming to you! I ought to bugger you right here, in front of the class! It's what you want, isn't it? To lick your own shite off my sweet, young cock? You bloody pervert!" Draco unbuttoned his fly, and pulled his cock out. He wiggled it at Snape. "Come along, Snape! On your knees! Suck my yobbo, you fuck!"

Snape was apoplectic. He was so angry that he couldn't immediately find his voice. His fists were clenched in white-knuckled rage. He turned to Harry, and through gritted teeth, he growled, "And, do you feel the same, Mr. Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, Severus, you ARE a right cunt ..." he mused. Snape gasped.

"Now, get OFF our floorboard!" Draco shoved Snape, who landed on his arse. Harry and Draco touched the floorboard together. It splintered open with a loud crack. Harry noticed that everyone in the room had frozen in place.

"Look, Draco!"

"Well, it looks like we have a moment to ourselves. Merlin, that felt good!"

"I'm glad you had the chance to vent. I'm impressed. Shame he won't remember it, though."

"With you at my side, I'll find the courage to say it all again," Draco said, confidently. Then, more meekly, he added, "One day." Harry smiled.

They recovered the scroll. The floorboard resumed its undamaged form, and they heard the sound of gasps, as their reanimated classmates reacted to the sight of Snape being shoved to the ground.

"We're leaving," Draco announced.

With that, they ducked beneath the Cloak. They vanished, as Snape was climbing back to his feet.

"For your next assignment," Snape addressed the class, as if nothing had happened, "I want you to team up, and brew a batch of Porcelainskin Potion. A few of you are looking rather... pimply."

Harry and Draco returned to the Room of Requirement, laughing all the way. They walked in on Justin and Ron. Justin was on his hands and knees, and Ron was pumping him from behind. "Oi! Hello!" Justin greeted them. Harry was grateful Ron had found comfort in Justin's arms—and arse.

"Rabbits!" Draco teased.

Ron smiled his goofy smile. "Hi, Harry! All go well?"

"Finish up, Ron. We'll wait."

Ron did just that. "Thanks, mate. The twins never let me be on top. You've gotta try this, Harry! It's wicked!"

"He's right, you know." Draco stood behind Harry, and wrapped his arms around his lover's waist. Harry laughed.

Ron humped Justin, like a randy poodle. His climax came quickly, and Justin's arse muscles tightened to drain him dry.

Once their friends had cleaned themselves up, Harry produced the scroll. He looked at Draco. "Ready?" Draco nodded. Harry unrolled the scroll, and Draco gripped one side. The magickal light illuminated yet another series of couplets:

These past few weeks, a load you've borne, But, there's no need to feel forlorn!

You opened your hearts, yet, true love won out, And, that was, dear sons, what this test was about.

One, you admired, perhaps, from afar. The second knew just what a treasure you are.

The third, a true friend, to last all your life, Through good times, and bad; through triumph, and strife.

When first you held your true friend in your arms, Immune he became, to this scroll's many charms.

Alone, you thought, this load to bear. Now, two friends, your burdens share.

One task, yet, remains undone: One more bit of lovers' fun!

You've waited long, to touch this way. Never fear! Today's the day!

Do it, then, this loving deed, Then, to this scroll, come back, and read.

Satisfy your hearts' desires, To see the message from your sires.

"Finally!" Draco rejoiced. "Oh, Harry!" He hugged Harry.

"It's like the scroll knew who they'd choose," Ron pondered.

"They got the chance to learn about various kinds of love, Ron," Justin explained. "First, Oliver and Adrian: boys Harry and Draco admired. They learned the difference between hero-worship and love. The second week, the tables turned. Colin and Theodore already adored Harry and Draco. Our boys needed to learn that this sort of devotion wasn't true love, either."

Ron understood. "And us? We're the true friends! And that's why, once the third week ended, we were able to remember everything!"

"Exactly! Harry and Draco's love for each other outlasted the test, so now, they can—"

"Yes, but what happens after?" Ron wondered.

"I don't know, Ron," Justin admitted. He turned. "What do you think, Dra—?"

Draco and Harry were snogging, and hadn't heard a word of the previous conversation. Justin took Ron, and led him to the door. "Perhaps, we should leave them alone, for a while."

"D'ya think they'll notice we've gone?" Ron jested.

"Not `til later, Ron. They'll find us, when they're ready."

"What should we do, while we wait?"

"Well, once the charms wear off, it'll be tough to explain a Hufflepuff in the Gryffindor dormitories."

Understanding dawned in Ron's eyes. "We'd better hurry. We shouldn't let a last chance go to waste."

"My thoughts exactly." Justin gave Ron's shoulder a squeeze.

Ron's playful nature gave him an idea. "Y'know, Justin, there's a certain cauldron in the bathroom, to which I've become sentimentally attached," he smirked. "Would you like to see it?" He reached over, and gave Justin's bum a tweak.

"Lay on, Macduff!" They left Harry and Draco to their private time.

Eventually, the kissing ended, as Harry and Draco came up for air. "I love you," Harry smiled.

"Oh, and, you know I love you, too!" Draco hugged him, tightly.

"I'm a bit nervous, though, Draco. I've never—"

"I know," Draco comforted him. "Trust me?"

"Of course."

"Very well, then. Come along." Draco took Harry, by the hand, and walked him to the bed. They undressed each other, caressing and kissing, along the way. Their erections seemed to be straining to reach out to each other. Draco's cock was leaking a slender stream of moisture, while a single drop sat, balanced, on the tip of Harry's.

Draco clasped Harry's hardness. It throbbed in his hand. "You first, Harry. I want you to know what I'll be feeling, when I do it to you. Plus, it will help you to relax." Draco strummed his fingertips along Harry's shaft. It had the desired effect. Harry started leaking more moisture. Draco used his fingers to spread the moisture, lubricating Harry's length.

He used his other hand to collect the moisture that he, himself, was producing. He used it to prepare himself for Harry's entry. Once both areas were sufficiently slick, Draco laid down on his back, and rested his legs on Harry's shoulders. He wanted them face-to-face, for, this, their first time. He guided Harry in.

Harry lost his breath at the sensation. He never realized that he could feel so close to another person. His arousal skyrocketed, and, he thought he would come, immediately. His entire body tensed, and Draco sensed this. "Stay still. Let it pass. We both want this to last a good, long time."

Harry froze. He remembered hearing of the American cliché about holding back by recalling baseball statistics. Harry knew none, so he started running Quidditch scores through his head, instead. It seemed to help. The wave passed, and Harry was back in control.

"That's it, Harry. Now, slowly." Harry pumped Draco slowly. Draco bent himself in half, so their lips could meet. He'd occasionally tighten the muscles around Harry's cock, but, each time he did, Harry was forced to seek refuge in the Quidditch scores.

It was a losing battle, of course. Harry winced, from the intensity of the pleasure. "I love you! I love you!" he panted, between kisses.

Draco knew this. He also knew that Harry was close. "Fuck me, Harry! Faster! Faster! Fuck me!"

Harry accepted the invitation. He let his mind relinquish control. His cock took over, plowing Draco, furiously. His mind swam, as the pleasure forced all other thoughts away. Draco grunted with each thrust, yet, any discomfort he felt was overrun by waves of purest love, and passion for Harry. Draco's mind, too, abandoned its post. He began thrusting his hips, in time with Harry's. They moved as one.

Harry struggled not to come. He wanted this feeling to last forever, but, all he could see were stars, and, all he could feel was his hardness, screaming for release. He let go.

It was the most intense orgasm of Harry's young life. He screamed as he flooded Draco. Spurt after spurt escaped Harry's cock. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" Draco urged, as Harry remained lost, in ecstasy. Harry's screams turned to weak sobs, as the intensity of the climax refused to dissipate. Finally, though, the deluge ended, yet, the waves of pleasure continued, until Harry's leg muscles gave out, and he collapsed onto Draco. His cock, which was, finally, beginning to soften, flopped out of its recent oasis.

They stayed there, cheek-to-cheek, without speaking. Both boys were panting heavily. As rational thought returned from its recent holiday, back to Harry's mind, the first thing that registered was that the place where his chest was resting against Draco's was soaking wet. He hoisted himself up onto his elbows to look.

"You came! I wasn't even touching you!" Harry was shocked, and confused.

Draco's beaming smile illuminated Harry's soul. "I'd heard about that, but it's never happened to me before! It was like having a wet dream, but being awake, all the while. It was unbelievable, Harry! You're unbelievable!" He pulled Harry into a deep kiss.

"Yes, Draco," Harry managed to say, between kisses, "But, what about you? I want you to be my first."

"I don't think we have a problem. Look." Draco directed Harry's gaze downward. Draco's hardness had not subsided. "I'm usually good for at least two," he grinned, "Especially, once properly inspired." He rolled Harry onto his back, and then used his fingers to scoop the moisture from Harry's chest and his own. He swabbed Harry's bum, using one fingertip to gently brush across the pink rosebud at the center. Harry gasped, and tensed.

Draco chuckled. He thoroughly enjoyed being the first person to give Harry this particular, new sensation. He tapped on the rosebud twice, with his fingertip. "Knock! Knock! Let me in!" he giggled. Harry laughed, causing his muscles to relax. Draco eased his finger in. Harry clenched. "Relax. I'll go slowly." Draco worked his finger, in and out, letting Harry get accustomed to the feeling. He used his free hand to stroke Harry's cock.

As Harry began to stiffen, Draco slid a second finger into him. Harry uttered a satisfied moan, and his body relaxed. It was time.

Draco pressed the head of his cock against Harry's entry. It slipped in with little resistance. Harry bit his lip, and forced himself to let Draco in.

Slowly, slowly, Draco entered him. He watched Harry's face for signs of pain, for Harry was just the kind of person who would keep his complaints to himself. Satisfied he wasn't hurting the young man he loved, Draco continued.

He entered Harry, fully. Harry felt some discomfort, but little pain. He felt the same closeness, and intimacy, that he felt when he was inside Draco. But, he also felt more. He wanted this. He wanted Draco inside him. He clenched his muscles to keep Draco in place.

"Are you all right, Harry?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, Draco. Never better. I'm getting hard again, see?" It was true.

"Right, then. Merlin's beard, I love you, Harry!"

A bit of Draco's impishness must have rubbed off on Harry. He curled his lip in a snarl, but his eyes were smiling. "Go on, then, `Malfoy,' fuck me!"

Draco was shocked at Harry's bluntness. He wasn't about to let him have the last word, though. "My pleasure, `Potter.'" He pulled back, slowly. His next thrust was a bit stronger. Harry didn't mind, at all. Draco took his time. He knew, from experience, that his second climax would take longer to achieve. He wanted to savor every moment of this.

Each thrust of Draco's cock pressed against Harry's prostate. He relished the feeling of being stimulated from within. He now understood the cause of Draco's first climax. He was about to have a similar one of his own.

Draco, meanwhile, tried to resist the temptation to increase his pace. He failed. Each thrust caused Harry to moan. Each moan compelled Draco to go faster. They seemed caught in an endless cycle: thrust, moan, thrust, moan.

Harry's calves were resting upon Draco's shoulders. Draco held them tightly. His climax was coming, and so was Harry's. Draco pushed Harry's knees toward the pillows, so he could lean in. They both moaned, as they kissed.

Multi-colored fireworks obscured their vision, as they came, together. They couldn't tell if it was some manifestation of the magicked scroll, or if their brains were short-circuiting from the sheer intensity of the climax. Harry felt the warmth, as Draco filled him. He knew that he and Draco were a part of each other, forever.

They were totally spent. Draco found one last bit of strength, and maneuvered his way into Harry's arms. They both would have been content to remain there, forever.

"The scroll," Harry said, finally.

"You go get it," Draco purred. "I'm not moving." He nuzzled his cheek, into Harry's neck.

Harry smiled, as he dragged Draco from the bed. "C'mon, you."

"Nooooo," Draco groaned, as he let Harry pull him to his feet. "I want to stay in bed!"

Harry cupped Draco's chin with both hands. "We've got the rest of our lives, Draco. Forever." He kissed Draco gently.

They stood, shoulder-to-shoulder. Harry wrapped one arm around Draco, who did the same. With their free hands, they picked up the scroll together.

It produced its customary light show, but, as the sparkles cleared, they were confronted, not by penmanship, but by an image of their fathers. James Potter looked much as he did when Harry saw him in the Mirror of Erised: young, and vital. Draco couldn't remember Lucius Malfoy ever looking quite that young.

The image of James spoke first.

"Hello, boys. If you are hearing this message, your task is complete. You love each other, and will forever. Now, we will try to help you understand why this was necessary. Harry, by now, you understand that it is your Destiny to face Voldemort. Only if you could find the courage to love your fiercest enemy, would you have the strength you would need to defeat him."

"And, thus," Lucius added, "I bred you, Draco, to be that enemy. My heart breaks from all the pain I caused you, my son. Would that there had been another way. I beg you to forgive me, Draco. Search your heart. I pray that Harry's love has melted the iciness I instilled. I pray you can still find some love for me."

James continued. "We've only seen glimpses of the future, boys. We can't be sure how this will turn out, but we have faith, Harry, that you will persevere."

"And with a Malfoy by your side, you cannot fail," Lucius proclaimed, proudly.

"Stay safe, boys," James concluded. "Love each other, and those around you. Eventually, word of your new bond will spread. It will be difficult for others to accept. In time, though, all will know that you belong together. You have more allies than you know. Goodbye, Harry. Goodbye, Draco. We love you."

With that, James and Lucius embraced, and the image faded. The scroll disappeared, in a plume of blue-white smoke.

"We've done it, Harry. It's over."

"No," Harry said, taking Draco into his arms. "It's just begun." With a sly look, he asked, "Do I recall someone saying they wanted to go back to bed?"

Draco smiled. "I believe you do."

They giggled, as they jumped onto the bed. It had, indeed, just begun.

• • T H E E N D * * *

AFTERWORD

Dearest Reader...

I hope you and your genitals enjoyed my sweet and naughty tale. If so, please e-mail and let me know. (Feedback = motivation.)

Meanwhile, look for the sequel to this story, "The Lion, the Serpent, and the Owl," coming soon to Nifty!!!

xoxo

—CyberBowl