Come Undone

Body


Disclaimer and Warning: part 1

Note: I got a lot of 'what the hell are Fred and George doing fucking Harry and Draco?' responses to this chapter. All I can say is that all will be revealed in its own time. I swear it's not just gratuitous sex, but even if it were, would that really be a problem?

When You Come You Never Make a Single Sound

Drawing this Rune is an indication that union, uniting, or

partnership in some form is at hand. But you are put on

notice not to collapse yourself into that union. For true

partnership can only be achieved by separate and whole

beings who retain their separateness even in unity and uniting.

Remember to let the winds of Heaven dance between you.

Gebo, The Book of Runes by Ralph Blum, 1982

Harry didn't bother to announce himself upon entering the shared quarters; he'd expected that Draco was still in the library. He had been spending the majority of his free time away from Colin in the library with Hermione. Only after dinner did Draco usually choose to join Harry in their room. He was, in fact, already there, standing in front of his full-length mirror. He was shrouded completely in a black cloak so that only he could see what he was really looking at.

"Hi, Draco," Harry said upon noticing the other boy. He eyed him curiously. "What are you doing?"

"Geeze, he can't really be serious. I wonder where he's planning on going," he muttered, still gazing at the mirror.

"You're going out?" Harry asked, his throat constricting. They had not been allowed anywhere outside of Hogwarts since getting their school supplies, almost three months earlier.

"Yeah. You get your turn next week," Draco replied without ing ing at his companion. "Jesus God! I wouldn't take me out looking like this."

"So what's all this about, then?" Harry asked, gesturing at Draco and his cloak.

"George sent me myer outfit for this evening." He turned to look at himself from a different angle. "And I think he's finally gone completely overboard. I don't think this is even legal."

"George?" The only George Harry knew was-

"Yes, you know George Weasley, don't you? Only he could have dreamt this up."

"Since when-"

"Good lord! You have such a one-track mind sometimes; it's not even funny. You know the drill. They threatened to turn me into a ferret permanently if I didn't leave their poor Ickle Ronnikins alone. So one thing led to another and you can pretty much infer the rest." All this time he had been turning round in front of the mirror, looking at whatever his reflection was from every angle imaginable. He finally turned to face his companion but held his cloak shut. "Harry, promise not to laugh at me."

"Keeping in mind that George is behind it, I think I can manage," he replied.

"Because I know I look absolutely ridiculous but just be kind about telling me. Please?"

"Go ahead," Harry said, nodding for him to let go of his cloak.

Releasing his hands, Draco let the cloak fall open. Harry had to agree that George had indeed outdone himself, yet again. Black fishnet stockings covered his shapely legs and on his feet he wore silver platform boots reminiscent of the Ziggy Stardust era of Muggle rock and roll. They climbed his ankles and finally stopped just below his knees. He wore tiny, black vinyl hot-pants and a black tank top under an ankle length white coat that was trimmed with feathers. Around his neck was a silver scarf that was pinned with a green jewel. Harry had to use all of his willpower to prevent his body from reacting to that of the other boy.

Harry cleared his throat and Draco grinned. "You like it, don't you?" he said cheekily. "Don't think I can't tell."

Finally, he put his impending arousal completely to one side. "Well," he started, trying to be critical. "Certainly leaves little to the imagination, doesn't it? Where are you going again?" he asked, trying with all his might to sound more curious than interested.

Draco looked exasperated again. "I don't know. How I am supposed to blend in anywhere looking like this?"

"Considering that you're going to be with Fred and George-"

"Just Fred," he corrected.

"Anyway, I think your odds are a lot better being with either one of them. They don't go to the moster conventional places, you know," Harry said, a smile creeping over his face. He had been out with the twins on more than one occasion and knew of the sort of things they were into.

"Thank you, I'm well aware of that. But I'm serious, Harry. Is this legal?" Harry laughed very hard. "I'm serious," Draco whined.

"I don't think they'd put you into something if it weren't," Harry replied, sobering. "They like to cause trouble, but they don't like to get into it if they can help it. Breaking the law is a whole lot different than breaking some silly, little school rules."

"Yeah, I know. But

"Jesus, Draco, listen to yourself! What is this? They dress you like a woman and suddenly you start behaving like one, too?" Harry exclaimed.

Draco narrowed his eyes at him. "Fuck you. I'd like to see you get all tarted up like this and-"

"Would you now?" George's voice said from somewhere near the door.

"That can be arranged, I'm sure," Fred added.

"This. Isn't. Funny," Draco ground out as he glared at George.

The twins gave him identical appraising looks. "Well, I must say that your sense of fashion experimental- once again exceeds my expectations," Fred said as he scratched his chin. "Well done!" he exclaimed and he vigorously shook his brother's hand.

"'Twas nothing, really," George replied, pretending to blush.

"Looks like we're all set then," Fred said as he took Draco by the arm. "See you kids in the morning!" And he began dragging the other boy to the door.

"Wait a sec," George said, making them stop. "First of all, if he can't even walk in those shoes, you're going to be in a lot of trouble." He looked up at Draco. "I thought you could. Didn't I take you to that club last year in them?" Draco said nothing. He just looked around. "Second, there is something missing," he continued. He scratched his chin and looked Draco over like he was some kind of scientific specimen.

"Make-up," Harry replied instantly. Draco glared at him. If looks could kill, Draco would have been committing suicide.

"Goodness!" he exclaimed. "Why didn't I think of that? Thank you, Harry." He took a small black bag out of the inside of his coat and handed it to Draco.

"are are so dead when I get back," he muttered to Harry as he passed him on his way back to the mirror.

"So are you," he replied with a sickly sweet smile.

"Fuck off," he said as he began drawing black circles around his eyes.

"You know how to apply that shit?" Harry asked, approaching Draco from behind to watch him. From that vantage point, he was finding it very difficult to talk about make-up. He was finding it very difficult to talk.

"Yes, Potter, I do," he replied so matter-of-factly as to give Harry the impression that there was nothing wrong with having that knowledge and everyone else should have it, too. "Now bugger off, you're making me nervous."

"Really?"

"Quit trying to be cute," Draco demanded. Harry backed off. "Will you quit looking at me like that? I mean, I know you find me absolutely irresistible, but now you're just being excessive. And I do know how to walk in these, so fuck off, you," he told George's reflection in the mirror. "It's just rather difficult when someone is trying to drag you out the door while wearing them. And where are we going, anyway?"

&qMereMerely amongst friends," Fred replied airily. "Hurry up, I don't like leaving for too long."

"Yes, Sir," Draco sneered. He quickly finished applying the lipstick and dusted himself with glitter. "So what's the look for the evening? Glitter rock slut?"

"Good guess!" Fred replied. "But wrong. You'll see. Lets go."

"Have fun, kids!" George cried as they left.

"So, are does this mean you're a drag queen now?" Harry cried after Draco. Just before the door shut, Draco threw an obscene hand gesture at him. He turned to George and asked, "So where are they going? And what is the look for the evening?"

George grinned.

*****

"Oh, this is disgusting. I'd rather spend the night alone in my own bed with Harry on the other side of the room than-" Draco grumbled. They had yet to actually arrive at their destination and were walking hurriedly through the half-deserted Diagon Alley.

Fred cut him off with, "Shut up. Who is going to recognise you looking like this? Come on, everything will be fine."

"Does Dumbledore know about this?" he asked, trying to find the slightest excuse to get out of it.

By now they had arrived at a shop at the end of the street. The sign read "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes" in huge, loopy, red letters. Fred led them around to the back of the store and knocked on the back door. "Of course he knows about it, you know that. Come on, love," Fred kissed him on the cheek. "Lee's waiting."

A lock sounded and they entered the basement of the establishment. The room was packed with every sort of person imaginable. It was definitely and undeniably a Fred and George type of gathering. Men and women of every nationality wore their traditional robes and even more wore very bizzare Muggle clothes that even Draco wouldn't ever dare to wear. Groups of two to fifteen littered the room and not a single member of any group immitated another in appearance or speech. Draco had to agree that this was probably the only place in the entire world he would ever fit in with his current appearance and thanked his lucky stars for his lack of modesty when it came to dressing like a Muggle prostitute. He was slightly irritated, however, when he realised that he was indeed the only boy who looked like he did.

"What's this all about?" he asked Fred. Heads were beginning to turn in their direction and he wasn't at all comfortable with being gawked at.

"Grand opening party!" Fred replied. "Relax, you're safe here." He pulled his companion along with him to stand beside Lee Jordan and a woman in a blue dress. "Hello, hello!" he greeted them. "How goes it this evening? Ah, Marjorie! How lovely to see you again," he said as he kissed the woman's hand. Draco was beginning to feel slightly jealous.

"Always a pleasure, luvvie," she replied. She looked Draco up and down and her smile grew wider. "And who is your lovely friend?"

'Not even remotely interested in you,' Draco thought as he looked Marjorie over. She was slightly shorter than Fred, thus slightly taller than he, but she seemed like a fourteen-year-old girl trying to be adult. Her blue dress was tight around her waist but hung loosely off her shoulders, giving Draco the impression that she wanted to make her breasts more prominent than they were. And that was just plain unnecessary so far as he was concerned; she clearly had more than her fair share and Draco idly wondered how much her surgery had cost her. Her face was far scarier than the rest of her body. Her mouth looked like a clown's mouth, all painted red and swollen as though she had just been snogging something. Around her eyes she wore thick, black liner and bright blue shadow that only added to the effect.

"Evan," Fred replied without missing a beat.

"Lovely to meet you, Evan," she said as she extended her hand. Draco took it and before he could react, shd brd brought it to her own face and kissed it.

"Likewise, I'm sure," he replied, feeling slightly less threatened.

"Ooh!" she squealed. "Bring him back, dear; I like him!"

"Indeed, love," Fred replied. He nodded his greeting to Lee, who was looking at Draco as though he was some kind of edible delicacy. "We shall see you later, I'm sure," he added as he handed Draco's cloak to his other partner. "Shall we find something to drink, love?" he asked Draco.

"Sounds lovely," he ground out. Heads had continued to turn and he was not feeling all that warm and fuzzy towards his companion.

"What would you like?" Fred asked when they had reached the bar on the far end of the room.

"I don't care as long as it's strong and stiff."

Fred smirked. "Well, all right, but let me get something first."

"Cheeky," Draco sneered. "I think I'll need to be a bit more inebriated than I am now if you ever hope to reach that point with me."

"Honestly! Just relax and enjoy not having Harry here. You finally have some time to yourself to pretend that you have your own life. Enjoy. It." He kissed Draco again. "All right?"

Draco sighed. "I just feel so-"

"Stop it. You look great, you smell good, and you're the prettiest boy here. Now knock it off."

"Gee, thanks. No one's ever told me I smelled good before," he replied, sarcasm dripping from his words.

Fred put a glass in his hand. "If you really don't want to be here, we can leave," he told Draco. Draco for his part was looking less irritated now that he had a glass in his hand. "There is really nothing for you to worry about. No one here knows who you are. No one here will have to know who you are. Trust me. I just thought this would be a good opportunity to get you the hell away from Harry and Hogwarts."

"Thank you. I know I'm being ungrateful, but I" he trailed off, looking at the counter in front of him. Taking a deep breath, he confessed quietly -without looking up- "I don't exactly know how to behave in public anymore."

"Well, stand up straight, for starters," Fred told him, pushing against Draco's lower back and forcing him upright. "Just feel like you own the place, the people in it, and especially your self. You know, how you usually act every single day."

"But you own this place," Draco said, pouting.

"Looks like you're almost empty," Fred replied, taking the glass from Draco's hand. He got a refill and pushed it back where it had come from. "I'll be right back," he said as he stood. Before Draco had any time to protest, he was gone amidst the crowd.

"Well, what have we here?" a masculine voice said from somewhere to Draco's right. He turned to come face to face with Marcus Flint, his one-time Quidditch captain. He was grinning at Draco and looking very amused.

"M-marcus?" Draco sputtered. "Lovely to see you."

"Not nearly as lovely as it is to see you," he replied as he took a seat beside Draco. "Kind of a far cry from your typical oversized, black robes, isn't it?"

"It's George's fault," he said defensively.

"Fits you much better, really." Marcus nodded sagely as he looked Draco up and down one more time (just for good measure).

"And what have you been up to lately?" Draco asked, trying to deviate from the subject of his clothing.

"This and that," he replied airily as he continued staring at Draco. "Following others around, drinking, smoking, loving life. The usual. And you?"

"Aside from school? Not much." He drained his glass and set it on the bar. He looked around for Fred, but didn't see him anywhere.

"So, Draco," Marcus started, finally making eye contact.

"Evactuactually," Draco corrected him, trying to sound natural.

"Evan?"

"Yes. I'm afraid I had to change my name when my father disowned me. Rather nasty affair," he said.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, not really sounding it.

"I'm not. Hiding in closets gets rather tedious, don't you agree?"

"Indeed."

"I'm actually a bit surprised you didn't know," continued the small blonde as he played with his empty glass. "It was all over the papers. Apparently when Lucius Malfoy disowns a family member, it is quite the newsworthy tale."

"I find that rather difficult to believe," Marcus said lightly. "That he would disown you, that is."

"He caught me looking like this and decided it was the last straw," he finished, smiling slyly. "I think it gave him a hard-on, honestly."

Marcus ignored this last statement and stood up, leaning one elbow on the bar. He smiled sweetly as he said, "Would you care to dance with me?"

Having given up on Fred returning any time soon, Draco reluctantly accepted Marcus' open hand. "Sounds lovely," he answered, trying not to sound anything but pleased.

"May I?" he asked with a gesture at Draco's coat.

"I'd rather keep it on if you didn't mind," he replied as evenly as he could. The idea of losing his coat and baring the Mark to the whole wicked world didn't exactly appeal to him.

The taller man just nodded and smiled again, taking Draco's hands in his own and led him into the middle of the floor. "I'm really glad to see you Dr- er- Evan," he corrected himself.

"Any particular reason?" Draco asked as he placed his hands on Marcus' shoulders.

"You're the only familiar face here." He placed his hands on Draco's narrow waist and began moving to the music. "Aside from Fred and Lee, I mean. I'm not all too familiar with this crowd yet. That and you're the prettiest thing I've seen in a long time."

"Why thank you," Draco said, smiling coyly. He decided that he would be good. For Fred's sake. "If you aren't too familiar with it, why are you here? If you don't mind my asking."

"Would you pass up the opportunity to see Weasley's Wizard Wheezes before it actualpenepened?" he asked. "Well, clearly not. If you don't mind my asking, who are you here with?"

"Fred," Draco answered lightly. Marcus tensed slightly. "Seems he was without a date this evening, though he really is being a lousy host."

"I wonder if he's feeling all right," he said, feigning concern. "Leaving you unattended, that is."

&;You;You're not bad at this flattery thing," the petite blonde mentioned offhandedly. "Sweet talker."

Marcaughaughed. "Oh, I'm not trying to sweet talk you, love."

"No?"

"I'm just being honest, that's all. Besides," he added with a grin, "it seemed such a shame that a creature as lovely as yourself should be standing all alone."

"Well thank you for saving me from my solitude," Draco said, trying to sound genuine, but the longer he was with Marcus, the more he found he just wished he would leave him alone. There were few things that Draco hated more than cheap pick-ups, especially ones that happened at, in, or around bars of any kind. It made him feel trashy. The song ended, but Marcus didn't let Draco go. "I think I'd like another drink, if you wouldn't mind," he said, trying to convey his message without being unnecessarily rude.

"By all means," he cooed as he led Draco back to the bar. "What would you like?"

"I don't really have a preference," he answered, smiling a very false smile.

The order having been placed, Marcus took a seat beside Draco. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket and offered one to his companion. "Care for a fag?"

"Thank you," he replied, accepting the offer. "Got a light?" Marcus hel a l a lighter.

"Darling!" a female voice shrieked from behind Draco. He turned to see the same woman in the blue dress he'd met earlier in the evening. She threw her arms around Marcus' neck and kissed him on his cheek, causing him to flinch slightly. "Isn't he delightful?" she gushed, looking at Draco while she laid her head on the other's shoulder.

"Just plain charming, indeed," Marcus replied dryly.

"Does he want to come home with us?" she whispered in his ear just loud enough for it to carry to Draco's ears and those of anyone else standing within ten feet of the small group.

"I don't know, dear, why don't you ask him?" he replied through his teeth as he continued to stare at the other boy. His demeanor had turned slightly hostile, giving Draco the impression that they felt the exact same amount of disdain for the woman.

"So, Evan," she said as she approached him much like a cat would approach a bird it is attempting to slaughter, "would you like to come home with us? We promise to be good."

"Thank you, but I don't think Fred-"

"Oh, Fred won't mind!" she said, batting a hand. "Will you?" she turned as Fred approached.

"Mind what?" he asked as he snaked an arm around Draco's waist and kissed him on his cheek.

Marjorie looked slightly disgusted. "Er nothing, dear, nothing," she replied, slinking back to Marcus' side. "Some other time, perhaps?" she said to Draco.

"Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps," he replied, melting into Fred's embrace.

"Lovely meeting you," she said, trying to sound seductive. "I do hope to see you again soon." She blew a kiss as she went to stand behind Marcus so he could say his goodbye.

"I truly enjoyed your company," he muttered into Draco's ear, his tongue darting out to lick at the lobe as he did so. "See you around." He kissed him on the cheek before turning to Fred. "Thanks again, Fred."

"Not at all. Next week, eh?" he replied as he shook Marcus' hand.

"We'll be here," he said.

Fred had turned back to the bar and Draco, so he didn't catch the wink Marcus threw his companion. Draco just smiled another false smile and turned back to Fred. At which point he said, "I don't like her."

"No one does," Fred replied as he set their empty glasses on the counter. "We tolerate her because she's got money. Fucked up, I know, but we've got to pay the bills somehow." He gave Draco a full glass and sipped his own. "Was she trying to get you to go home with her?"

"Yes. But I think Marcus was more excited about the prospect than she was."

"And he usually is. I suppose he puts up with her for the same reason the rest of us do, though. Glad someone's willing to do that- because I'm certainly not. How was Marcus, by the way?"

"Christ," he half-laughed as he rolled his eyes. "I think he used every wretched and demeaning line in the book."

"He seemed quite charmed by you, love."

"Mm," he replied, sipping at his glass.

"Actually," he continued, surveying the room, "most everyone seems quite charmed by you."

"It couldn't have anything to do with the fact that I look like you picked me off of some street corner, could it?" he said innocently as he stubbed out his cigarette.

"You're beautiful, love. Most of those here aren't interested in standard street walkers."

"I never said anything about standard," Draco pointed out. "And I'm rather offended that you see me as such."

"God, you're impossible," Fred said lovingly. "Standard is one word that I would never use to describe you under any circumstances. Besides, even if you were just tarting about, I certainly couldn't afford you."

"Thanks, love! Maybe that's what I should do. How much would you pay for me if you could afford it?"

"Don't even think about it, Draco," the red-head warned him.

"Why not?"

"Do you have any idea what it's like to sell yourself?" he asked incredulously.

"Do you have any idea what it's like to go without shoes for three and a half months? Or a decent robe? Or school supplies?" he challenged.

"That is not a viable excuse. Now," he said, clasping his hands together, "what would you like to do now?"

"If you introduce me to any more of your repulsive investors, I would like to go home," he replied sweetly and with a smile to match. "But if you're not, then I'd like to go to bed now." Reaching up on his toes, he planted a kiss behind Fred's ear.

"One more," Fred said, gesturing at his glass. He nodded his head at the barkeep and two more glasses were at his disposal.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to get me drunk," Draco observed lightly.

"Oh, I'm not trying, love," Fred replied. "I'm doing it now."

"Hurry up, then," Draco said as he emptied his glass for the fourth time. "Because I'm all set." As though to prove his point further, he rotated his hips, grinding himself against the other man.

"Indeed you are." Fred sipped at his drink.

"Now," Draco ground out through clenched teeth as he dug his nails into Fred's back. He had continued to grind himself against the other's pelvis and was ready to kill if he was refused again.

"Patience is a virtue, you know."

"Virtues? What are those?" Draco sarcastically replied.

"Ah, how silly of me to forget. What is it that I see in you exactly?"

"From everything I've gathered, that would be my ass."

Fred grinned. "And your legs. And your face and your arms and your chest and your stomach and your cock and your hands and your feet." He leaned in and kissed his companion on the mouth. "Your sense of humour isn't bad and I think your sarcasm is rather becoming of you. Actually, now that you mention it, I think I like nearly everything about you."

"Except?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"I can't think of anything off the top of my head. Remind me later."

"After shagging you senseless? I think I can manage. Lets go," he said as he grabbed Fred's wrist.

"Come on, just let me flaunt you a little more."

Draco wrinkled his nose.

"I love you."

"I know."

**

George and Harry were walking the halls, trying to kill time before eventually retreating to Harry's room. They were in the dungeons and were on their way back up when Harry started swaying.

"You all right?" George asked, slightly concerned.

"Draco's drinking," Harry told him as he righted himself against a wall.

"Perhaps we best you back to where no one can see how graceless you are when you're inebriated," the red-head smirked. "Come on, love." Looping Harry's arm through his own, he began leading the way through the dungeon corridor.

"If I wake up with a hangover, I am going to kill him," Harry mumbled irritably to himself.

"Oh, honestly!" George cried, laughing. "Why can't you just enjoy, for one lousy night, being without Draco?"

"Being without Draco isn't my problem," Harry grumbled. "It's not knowing where he's at and having him thoroughly knackered that makes me slightly nervous. In case you've forgotten, if something should happen to him, I'm a sitting duck."

"Draco is just fine. He's with Fred. And in case you've forgotten, Fred handles his inebriated friends quite well."

A suggestive smile crossed Harry's face. "Mm. No, I haven't forgotten. But I do seem to have forgotten how well you handle your inebriated friends."

"Mm. Would you like to find out?" he said huskily in Harry's ear, making him shiver.

"Well, well, well," a voice drawled from behind the boys. "George Weasley." They turned to find Professor Snape standing behind them and grinning wickedly. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Just taking care of my good friend, Harry, Sir," he replied sweetly. "Seems my brother has kidnapped his other half."

"Ah, I do recall something about this now. Albus mentioned your interest in making their weekend a bit moreWhat words did he use? I believe it was enjoyable." His mouth quirked into a suggestive smile that made Harry wonder if someone slipped a hallucinogen into Draco's drink. "Dare I ask what has so dazed Mr. Potter?"

"He's having a difficult time adjusting to being without Draco's companionship, Sir," George cheerfully replied. "Seems that his absence is driving Harry a bit mad."

Harry glared at George. "We were just on our way back upstairs, weren't we, George?" he said pointedly, tugging at his hand at the same time.

"Honestly, Harry, be patient," he reprimanded his companion with a smile. "Can't you see that I'm trying to have a conversation with Severus?" He turned back to the elder Professor, ignoring his companion's small grunt of irritation. "Yes, Dumbledore agreed with us that they needed some time apart, so we're just doing our duty as caring citizens. I'm sure they needed the time apart, don't you agree?" Snape nodded, keeping his smile in check. He was finding it rather difficult not to burst into gales of laughter at Harry's obvious discomfort. "And how are you these days, Sev? Potions as painful as ever?"

Flinching slightly, his smile faltered. "Well, Weasley, with Longbottom of the Constant Disasters hiding 'round every corner, one can't help but keep on guard," he said lightly despite his otherwise pursed lips. "How's the joke shop going? Grand Opening is tonight, is it not? There was a full page article in the Daily Prophet this morning. But I'm sure you knew about that already."

"Yes, they seemed quite eager to cover the story. Rather flattering, really," George grinned. "I never thought we'd be competition for Zonko's so soon."

"No?" Snape asked, trying to sound surprised.

"They've got a hell of a reputation," the red-head pointed out. "Most of their previous competitors never stood a chance and those that did didn't last long. I just hope we'll last through the standard Establishment War."

"Ah, the joys of business," Snape sighed.

"There are some advantages to having someone like Percy in the family for that very reason," he continued. "Percy has already eliminated most of our obstacles in that arena. Now it's just coming down to popularity."

"And how is your brother these days?" he asked dryly. He was never a fan of Percy the Pompous Prefect and had had few incidences with him since the TriWizard competition.

"Lovely, lovely," George sang. "Though he did leave the Ministry, much to my parent's disapproval. They were a bit sad at having three jokers in the family. But with Ron and Ginny left, I'm sure they can more than make up for it."

All this time, Harry had been leaning against the wall, listening half-heartedly to the exchange as he enjoyed the feeling of the alcohol in his blood. Having decided that George was right, he really should be grateful and enjoy the time he had on his own, he began to fall into the intoxication. Draco's presence in his mind became slightly clearer from the alcohol and he focused on it, wanting to know what the other boy was doing, where he was, or something of that same nature. He could see Fred's face in his mind's eye, smiling and talking, though he didn't know what about. Then his vision went blank and his own eyes shut as well. Then he felt his arousal stirring.

"George," he said, interrupting his friend and teacher. "We've got to go."

"Patience, luvvie, patience," George cooed, much to Snape's amusement.

"We have to go. NOW," he told his companion.

"Problem, Potter?" Snape asked innocently.

"No problem whatsoever," he replied distractedly. "In fact, it's quite the opposite. But we've got. To. Go."

George grinned. "You feeling all right?" he teased.

Groaning out loud, Harry earned a surprised look from Snape and a filthy, dirty grin from George. "Fine," he breathed. "Fine. Too fine," he added quietly as his eyelids fluttered and he leaned heavily against the wall.

"You sure?" George pressed.

"Oh, god, yes," he sighed as his head lolled back. Snape's face flushed.

"So what's Draco doing now?" the red haired man asked with a very cheeky grin. He glanced at Snape and fought off the insane urge to laugh. In truth, it was all he could think, he was so torn between an odd feeling of attraction versus the humour of the situation.

Hamoanmoaned. He was fully erect under his robes and he could feel the beginnings of an orgasm in his belly quickly overtaking his rational thoughts. The alcohol in his blood didn't help. "Fred's fault," he muttered.

Severus was glued to the spot. His companions seemed to have forgotten about him and he didn't want to attract attention to himself by suddenly running in the opposite direction, which he was very strongly tempted to do. Seeing Harry Potter delirious from the throes of ecstasy didn't help to rid him of his curiosity, either. He was watching this boy -whom no one could deny was any girl's and most boys' wet dream- writhe against the stone wall, making love to some unseen presence. The fact that this boy just happened to be a student disgusted him, but kept him that much more interested in the scene.

"So Fred's behind it, eh?" George asked, still fighting off laughter. "Or is he in front of it?"

By this point, Harry was gone. Totally, completely, utterly, fucking gone. He had no idea exactly what Fred was doing to Draco, but whatever it was, he was doing it very well. His nails dug themselves into the mortar of the wall he was leaning against to try and steady himself. He knew it was hopeless when he felt his aching cock swell under his clothes. He was close. He was very, very, very sodding close. The fact that he was in the dungeons with George Weasley and Severus Snape (Professor Severus Snape) had all but totally escaped his consciousness.

"I'd say he's in front of it," George said knowingly.

"Oh, god," Harry moaned out loud. His entire body tensed as his orgasm overtook him. He screamed at the top of his lungs as the seed poured out from him, soaking into his shorts and jeans. Though he had little to do with it personally, Harry was completely fucking numb to the outside world. Little swirls of ecstacy ran through his stomach, legs, chest, arms, feet, and hands. Slumping to the floor, the blood rushed back to the brain in his head and he suddenly realised where he was and who he was with. He looked up into George's smiling face and at his teacher's stricken one and thought he would die right then and there from the worst embarrassment known to all mankind.

No sooner had the boy on the floor made eye contact with him than Snape bolted down the hall. He would have to relieve himself before he could do anything else. Then, once that was accomplished, he would be going straight to the headmaster and demand to know why those blasted Weasley twins were allowed to 'take care' of hi-the boys. This was simply unacceptable, he thought, as he slammed the door to his office.

"Did I just do what I think I just did?" Harry asked.

"If by that you mean screaming in ecstasy because you just came in your trousers in front of the Potions Master, then yes, you did," George told him. "Come on, lets get you cleaned up. That looked like a hell of a powerful one," he sniggered. "Feeling all right?"

"If I didn't feel so fucking good, I would kill you," the smaller boy replied as he accepted his companion's hand and pulled himself to his feet. "But tomorrow, I'm going to kill all three of you. I promise."

"Four," George reminded him.

Harry pulled a safety pin out of his robe and jabbed it into his arm. "There," he said, satisfied despite the pain he felt as a result of that action. "That serves him right."

*****

Draco yelped. "I think Harry wasn't ready for that," he laughed.

"Why's that?" Fred asked as he tucked Draco back into his shorts and stood up from his position on the floor.

"Fucker just stabbed me," he replied, still giggling. The small pain was forgotten due to the aftershocks of his orgasm and the numbness caused by the alcohol. "Thank you, love. That was nice." He wrapped his arms around his companion's neck and kissed him on the lips.

"You're going to have to hold out better than that in the future, you know," the taller man said.

"God, do you know how long it's been?" Draco asked incredulously.

"How long?"

"So long that Colin Creevey has been looking like a viable outlet for some serious frustrations," he answered.

"And that's bad?"

"Not bad necessarily," he said almost thoughtfully. "Just weird as all get out. I mean, sure he's a hottie, but that's still Colin sodding Creevey. He's just a step above a wee bitty most of the time."

"Come on, love," Fred said. "The night is still young and there is much to be done." He led Draco out onto the space in the centre of the floor that was free of furniture and too many bodies. There were a few already dancing there, but they stopped when Fred and Draco arrived to watch them.

"Are you through flaunting me yet?" the blonde asked cheerfully.

"That's the last time I give in to your impatience. Give you a little bit of leeway and you just trod all over it. 'More more more.' That's you to a tee," Fred laughed as they began moving together to the music.

"Don't act as though you don't get off on it. You love it and you know it."

&quoat mat may be so," he agreed. "But I don't get to see you very often and I would like to spend my time with you in lots of different ways."

"Yes, on top, against walls, on your knees, on my knees-"

"Get your head out of the gutter."

"We're all lying in the gutter, but some of us are staring at the stars," he said almost dreamily.

"Poetry won't save you now, my love. Especially when it isn't even yours," laughed Fred. "But as I was trying to say before you so rudely interrupted me, I don't get to see you that often and when I do, I actually enjoy having you in my arms and not just in my mouth."

"You've got to quit hanging out with Marcus," Draco said decisively. "His bad pickups and flattery are starting to rub off on you."

"Marcus has that down to a science. I couldn't hope to be that bad if my life depended on it."

"True, true," he agreed. "Besides, it actually sounds genuine when you say it."

"Thank you, luvvie. That means a lot, I'm sure," he said rather dryly.

"And it wasn't poetry," Draco said. "But it is pretty."

"Ah, but not as pretty as you."

"Thanks, Marcus."

*****

No one else crossed their path on their way to Harry's room. Cadogan refused to let Harry in without Draco, but when Harry tried to explain to him that Draco wasn't there, the little knight started screaming. George managed to calm him down by conjuring a paint set and painting a keg into the portrait.

"First I come in my pants in front of Professor sodding Snape and then the lush that's supposed to be keeping me safe refuses to let me into my own room!" Harry complained when they had finally persuaded Cadogan to let them inside. "Surly little bastard!"

"Get in the shower, you," George told him through his laughter.

"Are you going to join me?" Harry asked suggestively, having calmed down significantly.

"Patience, patience my dear," George replied, throwing himself onto Harry's bed. "Don't worry, I shan't disappoint you. But I want you clean first."

Fifteen minutes later, Harry was dressed in clean shorts and wife beater and lying on the bed with his evening's companion. "Why won't you touch me?" he asked after a period of silence.

"I will touch you," George assured him as he ran his fingers through the smaller boy's black hair. "Just not yet."

"Why?" he demanded, sitting up. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but Harry's anger was beginning to swell once more.

"Because I'm sure Fred and Draco want to do something other than just shag all sodding night. That will come later, no pun intended, I'm sure, but just hold your shorts on for a while, all right?"

"Why? Why is it always about Draco?" Harry sneered the name, caught up in the same old anger.

"It's not always about Draco, you selfish git," George snapped back. "In fact, nothing up to this point has been about him."

"What the hell do you know about it?" he mumbled, regretting having said anything at all.

"I know a lot more than I care to," he replied, still frowning. It was obvious tory try that he had started something he was expected to finish and he became doubly angry with himself. "Why do you think Dumbledore trusted us with you? Why do you think he told us everything?"

"I haven't the slightest idea!" Harry admitted in a shout.

"Because we already knew everything! God you're fucking thick!"

"How did you already know everything?" he asked suspiciously as he leaned away from the other man.

"Becauracoraco told us. I mean, don't you think it's kind of odd that Draco knows us so well? Don't you think it odd how he didn't even try to be haughty with either of us? Did it not occur to you that Draco actually had a life before you?" the red head countered. Harry said nothing, just looked at the floor. "That's what I thought. I understand you're going through hell, Harry, and I am sorry. But that does not give you the right to put yourself above him. You've never done this with anyone before. Ever. I know you better than that. So why now?"

"He ruined my fucking life!" he shrieked, baring his tattooed left arm.

"No, Lucius and Voldemort ruined your life. That is neither here nor there, so don't even try to give me that."

"That's easy for you to say! You don't have the mark of Voldemort's slavery on your arm. You don't have to worry about someone else killing you when you're not even present!"

"You're right, I don't. But you're forgetting one very significant aspect of this," George reminded him through clenched teeth. "It's not about me. It's not all about you. There is someone else involved here who is going through exactly what you are and then some. You haven't the slightest idea about Draco, Harry. Not the slightest."

"Feel free to enlighten me then," Harry cried, throwing his arms out in exasperation. "What is this 'then some'whicwhich you speak?"

"Haven't you wondered why Draco hasn't been to a single Quidditch practise?" he asked very simply.

"No. He's not in Slytherin anymore, so how can he be on the team?"

"He may not be in Slytherin house but that doesn't mean he's not still a Slytherin."

"What do you mean?" Now he was intrigued. This was something he'd never thought of and never been told.

George sighed heavily and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "Perhaps you've failed to notice that you still sit at the Gryffindor table."

"Draco sits there, too."

"He didn't have to. He does now, but he didn't have to."

"Will you quit with the cryptic bullshit and get to your fucking point?" Harry asked very impatiently.

"My point, Harry, is that Draco sacrificed a lot for you. He gave up his position on the team for you and he also gave up being with his house for you."

"No one asked him to," the Gryffindor sneered.

"You'd like to think that, wouldn't you?" George replied, finally regaining eye contact.

"What? Did someone really ask him to?" George nodded. "Who?"

"Who do you think? Use your head a little here, though it might be kind of strenuous."

"Sod you," he said half-heartedly. He remembered the first day he and Draco had really met and he was flanked by Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall. "So why did he say yes?"

"Because he thought it would be the right thing to do," the red head told him as though he were a very small child. "I'm not sure I would have done it if it were me. If whoever I gave it all up for was as ungrateful as you are, I'd make it a point to throw it in his face all the time."

"So shall we call him Saint Draco from now on?" he sneered again.

"You're totally missing the point. All I'm saying is that you should quit making it all about you all the fucking time. You know, Draco's a pretty fucking cool guy once you actually get to know him," George told him.

"Yeah, I know," he admitted very quietly. Though he hated amitting to it, Draco really was a decent person and he really was starting to like him. He had a really twisted sense of humour and that had kind of distorted Harry's view of him at first, but the more he thought about it, the more he found he was becoming almost fond of his former rival. He was content with his company, at least. Though this did frighten him, Harry allowed himself to look at this different stance that he didn't often allow himself to acknowledge.

"Where is all this coming from, love?" George asked as he took Harry into his arms, making the boy lose his train of thought. "I never thought you to be petty; it's not in your nature."

"I just get so fucking frustrated and there's no one to blame," he sighed. "There's no definitive source of my misery and I can't stand it. I don't know what I'm fighting; how can I fight it? There's nothing to base anything off of." He stopped and sat up suddenly. Something in his brain clicked. "That's it," he muttered as he picked up his school bag and began rummaging through it. "That's the basis."

"What are you talking about?"

"Here it is!" Harry exclaimed, pulling a sheet of parchment triumphantly out of his bag. Running a finger down the page, he searched for what he was looking for. "Right here. Look," he said, pointing at the page. It was his notes from Divination the month prior. "My foundation is union. See?"

"So? It's just runes, Harry. I thought you knew better than to take any stock in that shite," George frowned.

"I'll try anything once," Harry firmly stated. "And if what you're saying is true, then there's got to be a reason for it. Nothing happens for no reason."

"Maybe so, but what's your point with the runes?" He was thoroughly puzzled.

"Maybe they say something that I've been ignoring. They don't tell your future, they just help you along. Least, that's what the book says. And I'll buy that," he said more to himself than his companion. "Maybe there's a reason Draco and I are bound together other than just really sodding bad luck. There's too many things that could mean," he sighed, pulling at his hair. "There are so many things that could mean and so many different ways of meaning it. There's something deeper here than I thought. It's not just flesh and blood."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know!" he exclaimed, smiling madly and still pulling at his hair. "I don't know, but I think I'll get an idea. Ack, there's too many questions and not enough answers. Time," he muttered, "time is the only thing."

"Harry, you're starting to scare me," George said, and he did look it.

"Sorry, love," he said, immediately switching back to his normally smiling and not insane demeanor. "I think I may have just had an epiphany." He threw his arms around his companion and kissed him deeply. "Have I told you how much I love you today?"

"Why?"

"Because you just made me figure it out," he grinned.

*****

"There you are, Good Sir!" Cadogan exclaimed upon seeing Draco, who was arm in arm with Fred.

"'Allo, Cadogan," Draco drawled. He was still tired as he and Fred had had to get back to Hogwarts before everyone else woke up. "How goes it this morning?"

"Lovely," he hiccuped. "Beautiful morning, Good Sir. How can I be of service to you?"

"You can let us pass," he replied as he rested his head on Fred's shoulder. He felt his arousal stirring with a vengeance. "Rubicon, right?"

"Righto!" he agreed as he swung open. "Thank you kindly, Good Sir. May your day b-"

"Silly little knight," Draco laughed awkwardly, struggling to keep himself under enough control to wait until they reached the bathroom to attack Fred.

"You have no decency, either of you," he snapped at the two boys in Harry's bed as he passed, the other twin in tow. The curtains were open, giving Draco and Fred a plain view of what they were obviously getting ready to do. Draco's gaze lingered slightly longer than was absolutely necessary on the small of Harry's bare back and the sheet that covered the rest of him. The sheet seemed almost threadbare to Draco, for he could imagine with amazing precision the curves of the rest of Harry's body. When they finally reached the bathroom and slammed the door behind them, Draco could wait no longer.

"Wow," Harry breathed as he watched the other two disappear behind the bathroom door.

"Wow what?" asked George. Suddenly, a wicked grin seized his face. "You've got a crush on Draa-co," he sang.

Harry whacked George's shoulder. "Do not," he half-laughed.

"You do-oo so-oo," he sang again.

"I want him, hell yes," Harry finally conceded as he turned pink. "But I don't think I have a crush on him. I'm not a little girl."

"Yes, I can see that," George said, smiling cheekily as he unrolled a Trojan over Harry's erection.

"Ooh," he moaned in reply. "So are you finally ready, or what?"

"Ready and willing," George replied wa gra grin.

**

"Do not," Draco gasped as his lover thrust all the way into him with one stroke.

"You do so," Fred pressed, holding Draco still against the stone wall beside the door in the bathroom. "And you want him to stand where I'm standing, even right now."

"I want you," the blonde said, trying to wiggle his hips and force his lover deeper inside him, but Fred held him still. His slim hips were just no match for the other man's muscular hands and arms.

"I know you do," he agreed. "But you want him more."

"So what if I do?" he snapped. He wanted Fred to move. This was just torture.

"So why are you pretending you don't?" He tongued at his ear, driving him an inch closer to madness. "You can't hide it. Actually," he added as he began rotating his hips and massaging his lover's sensitive prostate with the head of his cock, "I think you're pretty sexy when you're ogling him. You don't hold back."

"I want you," the pinned boy repeated.

"Only because I'm here," he insisted. "You want to know what it feels like when he pins you against the wall like this," he said as he held both of Draco's tiny hands in one of his and held them above his head. "And what his hands feel like on your skin." His free hand roamed over Draco's throat and down to his chest, touching just enough to send shocks through the smaller boy's body, but not enough to appease his disgruntled squeaks. His hand passed briefly over his nipple, making it peak instantly. "Imagining his fingers, aren't you?" he breathed into his ear. "They're very soft, you know. He can do anything with his fingers and it feels good. He's magick, you know," he laughed lightly as he pinched a nipple between his thumb and forefinger and twisted it ever so slightly. "Oh, he could make you cry, Draco, just with his hands."

"Stop," he gasped. "Stop. Want him too much

"It won't hurt for long, my love. He wants you, too," he breathed into Draco's ear. He stopped moving his pelvis and held the boy still once more. "He wants to be the one inside you." He pulled out almost completely, only leaving the head inside. "He wants to make you sigh and weep for wanting him." He gently pushed back in. Draco silently gasped as his eyes went wide. "There are few things in this world as beautiful as you are lov love, and he wants to worship you as I do." Laying a hand on Draco's flat belly, he totally missed his throbbing erection and pulled out again. "So beautiful. God, you're beautiful." He pushed back in. Once again, he rotated his hips and accompanied the action with short thrusts. "Perhaps you'll be the one who makes him weep."

"Sweet The sound was almost non-existent. Only after a year or so of having the boy as his lover had Fred learned how to listen properly to his noises.

The hand that rested on Draco's stomach moved down to his groin. Gooseflesh rose everywhere his fingers had touched. Fred circled his hand around the base of the cock in front of him and squeezed, making Draco gasp. Pre-come covered his hand already, making him grin madly. He was very ready, he thought. And very, very close. "Scream for me, my love," he cooed as he squeezed again.

"H-harder," he gasped as quietly as he had before. "Please

"Louder," he said as he stroked his hand up his lover's swollen shaft. "You know you want to scream for me. Would you scream for him?"

Draco's mind was reeling. He was so confused and he loved it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could see George's flushed face, smiling just slightly. Every time his face would tighten, his cock would tighten and Fred's hand stroking him only added to the effect. Inside him, Fred's cock ground hard against his prostate with each instroke, making him scream out silently with a new intensity each time. Suddenly it was all too much. The hand on his cock squeezed the head at just the right moment that he thrust in again and George screamed and...

"That wasn't a scream, my love," Fred chuckled as he kissed Draco's sweat drenched hair. "But it will do."

Pulling the boy off of him and setting him on the floor, he peeled the used prophylactic off of himself and discarded it in the rubbish bin. He turned on the faucet in the tub and filled it with unscented water, wondering all the while what impact his words had had.

"Are you all right?" he asked as he placed a very dazed Draco into the tub.

"You haven't come yet," he said, appalled at his own lack of consideration.

"Oh, I have," he laughed. "I think you were too gone to realise it, though."

Closing his eyes, Draco sank inhe the tub, letting his head rest on the edge. Bathing always made him relax unlike anything else. His companion took off his shirt and slipped an arm under his neck to support him while he wetted his hair. Another of his favourite things, he mused to himself.

"That's nice, love," Draco sighed. "You spoil me, you know."

"Mm," he hummed as he worked the shampoo into his hair. "Perhaps."

"Thanks for taking me out," the little blonde mumbled sleepily. "And

"Stop." Draco's hair rinsed, he rested it back on the tub and picked up a bar of soap. "I should be the one thanking you. I think I impressed them."

"Yes, you're sure to have what's-her-name?'s investment for certain now," he laughed.

"I certainly hope so and if I should need you again in the future, you better remember Marjorie."

"I'm sure I can manage," Draco assured him as he sat up -at Fred's prompting- and let his companion wash his back. Suddenly, his brow furrowed. "What did you mean by that just now?"

"What?" Fred feigned innocence very ineffectively. "Washing your hair?"

"Talking about Harry like that. Why did you do that? What did you mean?"

"Slow down, love, slow down. You're making it out like I just broke some law of nature or something. What's your problem?" Draco said nothing, just laid his head on his knees. "Does it really upset you that badly?"

"It doesn't upset me," he said defensively. "It just irritates me."

Fred laughed, "And what exactly did I do that irritated you, my love?"

"You get me to drag skeletons out of my closets without me even realising it and I don't know why. What do you get out of teasing me?" Draco demanded.

"I'm not teasing you with malicious intent. I only say those things because I want you to be happy, and sometimes I know what it takes to make you happy better than you do. You just need a push in the right direction, love. I'm only trying to help."

Damn him, Draco thought. Damn him for being so sodding good at sounding innocent. Neither of the twins had ever led him down a path of Certain Destruction, or at least not intentionally. They'd always treated him well and helped him out when he needed it most. They really were his friends, of course, but considering the vast majority of the friends he'd grown up with had been rather two-faced and mean, he had a hard time learning to accept it. In some small way, he always suspected that someday one of them would do something or other to him in revenge of all the things he'd said and done to their younger siblings. Most of the tormenting had ceased and it hadn't gone beyond casual insult for a long time so he had all but given up on the idea that they were only getting him to trust them before they turned around and did something horrid to him. And he would deserve it, he thought. But Fred tormenting him with his fantasies was almost more than he could handle. And he covered for himself spectacularly.

"I don't want to be tormented with visions of things that cannot be," Draco finally whispered. "Tease me all you like, but never about that."

"It wasn't teasing," Fred replied firmly, holding up a towel. "Give me a little more credit than that."

*****

"It's not going to be easy, you know," George told Harry very seriously. "And you better be sure you're serious about it, because if you hurt him, I'll-"

"Stop and think a minute," Harry interrupted. "We're stuck together. Not for the rest of the year and not for the rest of our time at Hogwarts. Forever. Till death do us part, you know? It might be romantic if it weren't so fucking ironic," he laughed bitterly. "God, I really can't handle this, can I?"

"Sure you can," the red-head assured him. "You're Harry Potter, the-"

"Boy Who Wished He Hadn't Lived," he finished for him. "It's old. I know it and I know you're just trying to be cute, but not now. Just tell me what I have to do."

"He needs proof."

"What kind of help are you?" Harry exclaimed.

"I can't just give you the answers," George defended himself.

"Why not?"

"Because that's not how it works. You want him, you've got to figure out how to get him. I'm telling you he needs proof and that's more than enough of a hint for any fool to land the boy!" he cried. "I'm not just going to hand over the secret to catching him. What do you take me for? Honestly! It's going to take a bit more effort on your part, I'm afraid, Master Potter."

"Fine. I can do proof."

George raised an eyebrow. Harry set his jaw.

"Okay," he finally conceded, grinning from ear to ear. "Told you you have a crush on him."