Keys to Desire by Emma Grant
Summary: The Weasley brothers have a new product, just in time for Valentine's Day, and who better to take it for a test drive than their favorite fellow hooligan, Harry Potter?   Set during OOTP. This is a "Choose Your Own Adventure" fic.  The beginning was written by KKR, and one of the three endings was written by me. (Harry/Draco)
Categories: Harry/Draco, Harry Potter Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 4 Completed: Yes Word count: 11582 Read: 329568 Published: 08/11/2007 Updated: 08/11/2007
Story Notes:

Originally posted: April 4, 2006

Lead Author: KKR (a_real_phony, formerly princesskariboo)
End Authors: knightmare (knightmare3099), dreamyraynbo(dreamyraynbo), and Emma Grant (emmagrant01)
Artists: ravyn_ashling (ravyn_ashling)
Main character: Harry Potter
Era: Fifth Year

Originally posted here .


Art by ravyn_ashling

1. Story beginning by KKR by Emma Grant

2. Ending #1 by Knightmare by Emma Grant

3. Ending #2 by Dreamyraynbo by Emma Grant

4. Ending #3 by Emma Grant by Emma Grant

Story beginning by KKR by Emma Grant
Author's Notes:
Originally posted here .
~*~

“Ladies and Gentleman! Boys and Girls! Gryffindors of all ages!”

Harry looked up from the essay he’d been wringing from his quill for Potions. Fred and George Weasley were standing on a table at the far end of the Gryffindor common room, striking dramatic poses that commanded the attention of the entire room. Even Hermione had glanced up over her barricade of books to see what the fuss was all about.

“The Weasley Brothers-“ Fred announced.

“-Incorporated-“ interjected George.

“-would like to present their latest and most anticipated product for St. Valentine’s hallowed holiday of love!”

“Please, please, hold on to your pocket books,” Fred said, waving his hands as George fetched something out of a satchel lying on the table. “For a limited time only, the Weasley Brothers-“

“-Incorporated-“

“-give you…” The twins exchanged glances and paused for dramatic effect. At this point, they’d gathered everyone’s rapt attention – Harry thought he even saw Colin Creevy hold his breath as the Weasley twins paused.

George pulled a small, heart-shaped box from behind his back, holding it tilted up for everyone to see. There was something written on the cover, but from where Harry sat, he couldn’t make out what it said.

“…The Keys to Desire!” Fred burst with much aplomb, holding his arms out to display the box in all its apparent glory. The crowd of Gryffindors that had gathered around the table began to titter with excitement. Then, someone called out, “Whadda they do?”

George raised his eyebrow. It was apparent he’d been waiting for someone to ask that question.

“Allow us to demonstrate,” he said with a mischievous glance toward his twin. Fred nodded and turned toward the crowd.

“Oh, RONALD!” he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. A tuft of red hair visible over the top of one of the over-stuffed armchairs near the fire disappeared. There was a simmer of laughter in the crowd as George called, “Oh, come on, brother-dear – you owe us, remember?”

Nothing stirred in the armchair, but Harry could imagine Ron was sinking even lower in his seat. Seamus Finnegan, who was standing toward the back of the crowd, got a manic sort of smile searing across his face as he bounded across the room and round the chair. A moment later, he was dragging a tomato-red Ron by the wrist, leading him triumphantly to the table that now doubled as a stage. Using a chair as a step up, he shoved Ron onto the tabletop, where Fred and George stood wearing matching leering grins. They allowed Ron to stand in between them, hunched over and scowling at each person on the floor individually.

George carefully opened the box and displayed the contents. There were three pink key-shaped hard-candies lying side by side on the raised interior of the box, and each was shaped like a key. George swiveled, turning towards Fred, who reached around Ron and plucked the middle key out. He held it up with one hand as he reached out with the other and gripped Ron’s chin, forcibly prying open his mouth.

“Watch him carefully,” George stage-whispered, almost conspiratorially, to his audience. “As he sucks on the candy, his true desire, locked deep inside him, will occupy the forefront of his mind, and everything will be suddenly clear to him…”

Fred dropped the key into Ron’s mouth, and as soon as he loosened his grip on his brother’s chin, Ron looked away, his cheeks burning redder than his hair as he dejectedly sucked on his candy.

The crowd of Gryffindors began to slap their hands on their knees in an improvised drum-roll as Ron scowled and stared at the tabletop. After a few moments, the drumming died off and people started murmuring, as Ron remained a hunched figure on the table, pouting and narrowing his eyes at his brothers.

“It’s not working…” whispered a third year standing near the table Harry sat at. Her friend shrugged and answered, “Maybe he just doesn’t have any hidden desires.”

They both snickered, and at the same moment, onstage, Ron suddenly went rigid. His eyes went wide and he froze in place, catching the attention of Fred and George’s fickle audience. Then, his head snapped up, and his eyes locked with a wide-eyed, dumbfounded expression on something behind Harry. He turned around, as did everyone else, and there seemed a cumulative realization that Ron’s eyes were fixed on another pair of eyes, peeking out over a stack of books and framed on top by a nest of bushy brown hair.

Hoots and wolf-whistles echoed off the ceiling of the common room and Fred and George grinned triumphantly as they dragged a transfixed Ron off the stage. They took only a moment to toss him in Harry’s general direction before returning to their adoring public, who were now pulling out their galleons to get their very own box.

“Step right up! We only have a very limited amount!” Fred called, running back to the satchel on the table before anyone made off with their treasures.

“Buy one for yourself, or that special someone!” George added, already taking people’s money even though he didn’t have the product on hand. “Make him realize you’re all he desires!”

Harry raised his eyebrow at the hub-bub, then turned his eyes onto Ron, who had been thrown into the chair across from him. The boy’s blush had faded, and so had his scowl, replaced by an expression that resembled that of a lobotomy patient. Harry followed his gaze to Hermione’s lone table, where the girl was hastily gathering up her books and vehemently ignoring Lavender Brown, who was giggling and asking very loudly, “Did you know Ron likes you? Do you like him back? Oh Merlin, you totally like him back!”

Hermione’s face was trying to decide whether to turn red from embarrassment, or purple with anger, as she tucked her stack of books beneath her chin and shuffled out of the common room.

Harry looked back at Ron.

“Ron.”

There was no response.

“Hey, Ron!” Harry waved his hand in front of Ron’s face, but the boy remained unresponsive. All of a sudden, with an intake of breath that reassured Harry that his friend was still alive, Ron stood up and said, “I think I’ll go to the library.”

With that, he strode with stiff purpose towards the portrait hole.

Harry watched him go, mildly bewildered with his head cocked to the side. A hand on his shoulder snapped him back to reality, and he turned to see Fred Weasley with his back to him, smiling and calling out to the crowd of girls vying for his product, “Sorry, girls, they’re all gone! We’ll have some more made next week! Make your down payment over there with George!”

Behind his back, Fred was holding a half-crushed box of the product in question, a collapsed crease running through the words “Keys to Desire” written on the cover. Fred turned his head for a moment and winked at Harry, whose lips quirked into a quick and thankful smile as he took the box, hiding it in his robe pocket.

“Had to save one for our very best customer,” Fred muttered, giving Harry a smirk then crossing the room to join George. Harry looked down at his pocket, and wondered what on earth the Weasley twins thought he was going to do with three Keys to Desire.

~*~

The next morning, Ron and Hermione didn’t seem to be on speaking terms. However, this time they didn’t seem to be angry with each other. When Hermione came and sat down at the Gryffindor table across from Harry, she blushed and made a point to not look to Harry’s left, where Ron was sitting. It was amusing to watch, Harry thought, because each one would look up at the other every so often, and without fail, every time their eyes met, each would blush furiously and look guiltily at their plates. It kind of made Harry wonder what had happened after Ron had left for the library the previous night.

After half of the meal was conducted in this manner, Harry finally decided he’d had enough amusement for the morning and broke the silence among the three of them.

“So,” he said conversationally, as if the first ten minutes of their meal had simply been a lull in conversation, “Fred and George gave me a box of those Key candies.”

Hermione looked up at him, focusing her gaze on his right ear just to be safe. She wrinkled her nose as she said, “Oh, please don’t tell me you paid money for those silly things.”

Harry shook his head and took a large, hearty bite of marmalade-soaked toast. “Nope, they just gave one to me. I think it’s because I bought some of those faulty singing tops from them last month.”

Ron grimaced. “You mean the ones that sing ‘God save the Queen’ backwards?”

Harry shrugged and said, “They tried so hard to sell them to me. I felt bad.”

Hermione’s mouth pinched and made the familiar twist to the right side of her mouth. “So what are you going to do with those candies? I hope you’re not thinking of feeding them to some poor defenseless Ravenclaw seeker.”

Hermione’s eyes shot accusations like daggers. Harry lifted his shoulders and rolled his eyes, “I would never do that, come on, Hermione.”

He snuck a glance over to the Ravenclaw table. “Although… it would be interesting…”

“No, it wouldn’t, bring those wandering eyes back to reality, Harry!” Hermione directed in a shrill voice, pointing her finger to the table. Harry laughed, turning back and directing his attention to his toast crusts. He picked one up and dipped it in the marmalade, licking his fingers after he’d finished them off.

“You know, maybe I’ll have one myself,” he said suddenly, interrupting the silence that had temporarily descended over the table. “It might be nice to know for certain exactly what I want.”

“No, it’s not,” Ron grumbled, but promptly shut his mouth when Hermione shot a warning glare at him, then looked away quickly with a furious blush and her lips pressed into a frustrated line.

Harry snickered, and then pulled the box out of his pocket, where it had spent the night. He opened it up and contemplated the three keys inside. Each one was a vibrant shade of pink – smooth and clear and made entirely of crystallize sugar. Each key was of a different design as well, with assorted embellishments accenting the basic skeletal shape. Harry plucked the left one out of the box, the one with a swirling decorated handle.

“Harry, don’t do that,” Hermione sighed in an exasperated motherly tone.

Ron sat up straight for the first time that morning and looked at Harry with wide eyes. “Seriously, mate, you’ll only embarrass yourself.”

Harry smiled and shrugged, popping the candy into his mouth.

~*~
End Notes:
See the endings written by Knightmare, Dreamraynbow, and me (Emma Grant).
Ending #1 by Knightmare by Emma Grant
Author's Notes:

Author: knightmare3099
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harry/Draco/Blaise
Summary: Finding out what you truly desire isn’t always easy. Faced with a choice between two boys, Harry must make a difficult decision.
Warnings: Slash, sexual situations
Any author notes: Thanks to alisanne, vlredreign, and eeyore9990, my betas, pervs in crime, and Slashinista Sistas. This wouldn't have been possible without the wonderful premise by KKR, so thank you for such an interesting lead story!

Originally posted here

Delicious strawberry flavour exploded on his tongue as the candy melted. Harry hmmm’d and continued to suck, waiting for it to take effect. A gentle warmth spread and he sighed, a smile curving his lips. He scanned the Hall, going rigid when his eyes lit on the most perfect boy he’d ever seen. Licking his lips, he stood, ignoring the distant voices that sounded in the background, shaking off the hands that attempted to hold him back. Nothing could keep him from what he wanted. Pulsing within him, the urge to reach the object of his desire was a powerful force, driving him forward.

The background chatter of students ceased as Harry walked with assurance across the floor. The Slytherins watched him when he came to a stop in front of his goal. His lips parted as he reached out his hand, fingertips lightly stroking the soft skin, tracing the contours of his desire’s face. His eyes roamed, taking in the expressive eyes, the contrast of his fingers against the beautiful skin, finally resting on parted lips. Need burned, heat coursed through his veins, and a soft whimper escaped.

“Finally cracked, Potter?” Nott asked, sarcastically.

“Leave him alone; he can’t help it.” Hermione, having followed Harry, glared at Nott.

She tugged on Harry, who jerked away. He searched the face of the boy in front of him, his fingers still wandering. Slipping his hand around to twine in curly hair, he tilted his head, leaning forward. Lips met his, unhesitant, eager and hungry. Hands wound around his waist and he was jerked forward, bringing a cry of delight from him. He pulled back, the candy finally wearing off, and blinked. Blaise smiled at him and tightened his grip, nuzzling Harry’s cheek.

“I am not certain why you chose to do this, Potter, but I will not lie and say I’m unpleased.”

Harry smiled and blushed faintly. He gently disentangled, taking a small step back. Blaise captured his hand, squeezing it slightly.

“Zabini?”

“Will you run?” Blaise lifted his free hand and gently cupped Harry’s cheek, his thumb stroking his cheekbone.

“It was the candy,” Hermione protested.

“Candy?” Blaise repeated. Harry’s blush deepened.

“Not here,” he said, glancing around at the not so friendly faces of Slytherin house. He sighed, giving in for just a moment to the feel of Blaise’s hand moving on his skin. “Tonight? Meet me on the Pitch?”

“When?”

“After curfew. Can you sneak out?”

Blaise nodded, and took a step back. He lifted Harry’s hand, pressing a kiss on the back. “Until then.”

“Come on, Harry,” Hermione urged, taking him by the arm and dragging him away. “Really, what were you thinking?”

Harry sighed, tuning out her lecture with the ease of long practice. He touched his lips and grinned. Hermione might call him foolish, but nothing would make him regret taking that bit of candy and finally making a move on Blaise.

~*~

The common room was in a riotous uproar. Fred and George were holding centre court, hawking their new product, using Harry as a walking testimonial. Harry shook his head when they asked him for an endorsement, smiling widely and walking over to the fire to fall into his favourite squishy chair.

“Harry, what were you thinking?” Hermione sat gracefully in the chair next to Harry, while Ron flopped on the floor in front of her.

“He wasn’t thinking, Hermione, that’s how the candy acts. You don’t think, you just… need.” He flushed a brilliant red as he said this, turning his face from hers. She blushed as well, and Harry smirked.

“How long have you fancied him?” Hermione asked, watching Harry’s smirk fade.

“Dunno.” Harry shrugged and turned to look into the fire.

“Harry, he’s a Slytherin.”

“I’m sure Harry gathered that, Ron.” She tapped Harry’s shoulder, to get him to look at her. “Are you really going to meet him tonight? Alone?”

“Yes,” Harry answered.

“It could be a trap,” Ron warned.

“Yes, Ron, it’s a very clever trap,” Harry said. “The Slytherins are all in on it, don’t you know. They talked your brothers into creating the candy and giving me some, then made sure I’d eat it, and then somehow made certain that it would be Blaise that I reacted to. And they cleverly set it up so I’d suggest the meeting time and place as well. Astounding, isn’t it?” He sighed.

“We’re just worried about you,” Hermione said.

“I know, really I do.”

“He’s a sight better than the other Slytherin you keep gabbing about. And I guess since you finally got off your arse and talked to him, I can at least have one or two nights free from your moaning about him never noticing you?” Ron joked, poking at Harry.

“Until I begin to give you details about dates,” Harry said, laughing with Hermione and Ron. He laughed harder when it obviously occurred to Hermione that Ron had known of Harry’s crush, and she hadn’t, and she made her displeasure known, very loudly.

~*~

Harry walked through the peaceful night, each step crunching in the new fallen snow. The Pitch was covered in white, still and magical in the moonlight. He frowned, looking behind him at his footprints, knowing that he’d be easy to follow. With a shrug, he passed the broom shed and entered the stadium proper.

The box with the two remaining candy keys rested in his pocket. He’d brought it, with some half-formed idea to give one of them to Blaise and see if he really desired him in return. Taking a deep breath of the crisp air, he walked towards the lower stands, climbing up into them. Pulling his wand, he cast a Warming Charm and sat, leaning back, resting against the bleacher seat behind him, staring at the moon and watching the clouds drift across it.

“Beautiful.”

Harry sat up suddenly, smiling a welcome at Blaise. “It is a beautiful night.”

“I meant you.” Blaise moved to sit next to Harry, an amused smile on his face at Harry’s red cheeks.

Harry’s smile faltered when he caught movement on the ground below the stands. “Who is that?”

“Malfoy. He insisted this could be a ‘Gryffindor’ trick. I told him he was welcome to try to protect my virtue.”

“I wouldn’t ask you here to trick you,” Harry protested. “Gryffindors are more direct than that. I really want to see you, that’s all.”

“I know, and he does as well.” Blaise looked around. “Did your friends not accompany you?”

“No, I told them not to. Hermione will keep Ron in line.”

Harry looked down at his hands, suddenly nervous. An awkward silence fell. When Blaise reached up to touch his shoulder, Harry nearly yelped, and he did jump, just a bit.

“Sorry. What was this about candy?”

“Can we… can I… I mean…” Harry blew out his breath nervously, hating how anxious he got when it came to liking someone. Acting was better than speaking, he decided, and he leaned over, tilting his head and pressing his lips to Blaise’s.

He moaned when Blaise’s arms encircled him, slipping his arms around Blaise’s neck, eagerly meeting him for soft kiss after soft kiss. Blaise grew bolder, one hand fumbling with the buttons on Harry’s coat as he ran his tongue along Harry’s lips, slipping in when Harry opened for him.

Harry had never kissed like this. He’d heard of it, of course, because all the boys in the dorm talked, but actually being here, pressed against Blaise, their tongues sliding together… He was awash in sensation, making small needy sounds in the back of his throat, trying to get closer to the source of that pleasure.

Blaise managed to worm a hand into Harry’s coat, and he slid it along his waist, pulling him flush. He drew away from Harry’s mouth, kissing along his jaw, moving to his neck. Harry’s hands clutched Blaise’s shoulders spastically as he was overwhelmed with desire.

“Zabini! Get on with it! I’m freezing my arse off down here,” Draco yelled, causing them to break apart.

Harry swallowed hard, dragging in breaths. He glared at Malfoy, but pulled back, buttoning his coat back up.

“A bit too fast, I think,” Blaise said.

“Maybe,” Harry answered. He stood up, and holding out his hand to Blaise, led him down the stairs to the ground below. “What’s the matter, Malfoy, jealous?”

“You wish, Potter. I just want to go get warm.”

“Awwww, has ickle Malfoy no one to snuggle with?” Harry taunted. That angry flare in Draco’s eyes made them grow darker, and Harry kept on, knowing it would bring the colour to Draco’s cheeks. He loved to get Draco riled, wondered if he’d look the same after he’d been kissed. He immediately felt a twinge of guilt, since he’d already started something with Blaise.

“I don’t need a half-blood scarhead to snog, Potter. I can have anyone I want.”

“No, you can’t, Malfoy. You can’t have me.” Harry pushed past him, so he didn’t see the look of pain that crossed Draco’s face, but Blaise did.

The three boys walked inside the castle, moving as silently as they could, so as not to get caught. Harry stopped in the main hall, eyeing the path to the Tower, not really wanting to go to his dorm. They hadn’t even talked, after all. He slid his hand into his pocket, feeling the box.

“The candy, Blaise. I never explained it. Where can we go to talk?”

“We can go to the Slytherin common room. Draco will clear it out for us.”

“All right.”

Harry trailed behind Blaise and Draco, keeping to the shadows. Draco whispered the password, shooting Harry a dark look as he slipped through the wall. A few seconds passed, with Harry giving shy glances to Blaise as Blaise held his hand, stroking the back with his fingers.

When Draco gave the all clear, Harry stepped through into the common room. It was almost exactly as he remembered. He sat on the same couch he had occupied in second year, waiting patiently for Blaise and Draco to settle.

“So, candy?” Blaise prompted.

“Yeah,” Harry said, digging in his pocket. “Candy.”

He pulled out the box and opened it, offering one to Blaise, holding the other. “I took this candy, called the Keys of Desire. You eat it, and then you centre in on what you truly desire.”

“And that was me?” Blaise asked.

“Yes,” Harry admitted, blushing. “I mean, the feelings were there before; the keys make you act on it, is all.” He fought the urge to glance at Draco. The blond hadn’t been at breakfast, and honestly, Harry wasn’t sure what would have happened if he had been there, since he fancied both boys equally.

“So, if I took the key, like this,” Blaise placed it on his tongue, a small smile of bliss crossing his face at the sweet taste. Harry grinned, and popped the other key into his mouth, allowing it to melt with a burst of strawberry flavour. He closed his eyes, waiting for the candy to take effect.

When he opened his eyes, he focused right on Blaise, who was staring at him in open-eyed wonder. Blaise leaned forward, and Harry met him eagerly, kissing him. Hearing a small cough, they broke apart, faces flushed, panting a bit. Harry turned and stopped, frozen in place.

Draco’s eyes grew wide when Harry turned that look of want on him. He started to edge away, but stopped when Blaise gripped his arm tightly. Moving forward, Harry stared at him in fascination, hand coming up to caress his face, his other hand twining in the silky hair that fell around Draco’s face.

“Draco,” he whispered, just before leaning forward to taste.

Unable to ignore him, or to deny the want he’d felt for so long, Draco leaned into the kiss, returning it fiercely. If this was his only chance with Harry, he was going to make the most of it. He barely noticed Blaise coming behind him, sliding strong arms around his waist. Harry continued to kiss him, even as Blaise nuzzled his neck and sucked kisses on his skin.

Harry pulled back, eyes dazed, lips swollen, and met Blaise in a kiss, trapping Draco between them. Harry began to rock, his hips grinding against Draco’s, who was pushed into him by Blaise’s thrusts from behind.

“You didn’t do this in the hall,” Blaise gasped.

“Wasn’t alone then,” Harry mumbled, between kisses on Draco’s throat. “Wanted to.”

“Merlin, this feels…” Draco moaned, arching into Blaise, wanting more.

The candy started to wear off, and Harry came back to his senses, stilling immediately. Blaise stilled as well, sensing the change in emotions. Draco could have sobbed, but he didn’t. He simply rested against Blaise, accepting the comfort his dorm mate offered. Harry stepped away, licking his lips, flushing.

“I… Blaise, I’m sorry.”

“Harry, don’t…”

But Harry didn’t wait to hear what Blaise or Draco would say. He ran, terrified of his feelings, upset that he’d snogged them both, seemingly without distinction. By the time he reached the Tower, he was gasping for breath. He tried to calm down, pacing back and forth in front of the Fat Lady before giving the password and climbing through.

He moved quickly up the stairs to his dorm, avoiding everyone, and changed, climbing into bed and pulling the curtains. He lay back, looking at the little circle of ceiling, his hands laced behind his head.

He knew he was attracted to both Blaise and Draco. He knew it was foolish, too, because both were Slytherins and might become Death Eaters. However, when he’d eaten that candy, he hadn’t cared about allegiances. He spent so much of his time worrying about Voldemort, and this war, that to just act like a normal teenager admitting a crush was… well, daunting, and nerve wracking, normally. The candy had made that so much easier.

Now it had made things worse. Did he really desire both Blaise and Draco? Equally? And, if so, how did he decide? Or, was there even the choice? He turned over, miserable. It was quite possible that neither boy would be interested in anything Harry had to offer, besides a quick one off. Harry didn’t want that. Sure, eventually, he wanted to be with someone, like that, but for now, he just wanted a relationship. To snog, to date, to be with someone.

He slept fitfully, after finally falling asleep, and woke up tired and grumpy, without ever really solving his dilemma. He managed to avoid Ron and Hermione at breakfast, slipping down before the rest of the dorm room had stirred.

It was a weekend, a Hogsmeade one, and the students gathered to begin the trip to the village. Harry walked in silence beside his two friends, brushing off all queries and concerns, moping about what had happened the night before.

When Hermione and Ron headed for Puddifoot’s, he split off in another direction, walking towards the Shack. It was silent, looking just as imposing and rundown as ever. He passed the fence, having no reason to fear the Shack, and headed for the door.

“Potter, are you insane?” Draco gripped his arm, startling him.

“Probably. Let me go.” He jerked his arm away, and looked beyond Draco to see Blaise walking up the path.

“That place is haunted,” Blaise said in a conversational tone, when he reached them.

“No, it’s not.”

“You’d go in there?” Draco looked sceptical.

“Yes, I would, yes, I have. Really, Draco, I’ve faced Voldemort many times now. You think a shack is going to bother me?”

He whirled and marched up to the front door, opening it with a blast from his wand. If he was going to have this conversation with them, it wasn’t going to be anywhere out in the open, that was for sure. Besides, this might solve his problem. Whichever one was brave enough to follow him, well, that’d be the boy he’d pick.

He groaned softly when both boys walked through the front door, quiet, close to each other, but following him. He led the way into the living area, and cast a few spells to clean and start a fire. Draco conjured a rug, and Blaise some cushions, and all three sank down, staring nervously at each other.

“You ran.”

Harry shot Draco an irritated look. “And?”

“I thought you were a Gryffindor. You know, bravery and all?”

“I was… I kissed you and Blaise!”

“Yes. Did you hear either one of us complaining?”

“That doesn’t help any.” Harry took a deep breath, gathered that vaunted courage and spoke. “I want to date, to have a boyfriend. Yet, here I am, with both of you. I don’t understand it, and I don’t know what to do. Which one do I pick, I mean, assuming either one of you is still interested.”

“Why do you have to pick?”

Harry stared at Draco in shock, flicking his gaze to Blaise, who had a slight smirk on his face. “Don’t tell me that the wizarding world is accepting of three guys together?”

“It’s not as restrictive or prejudiced as the Muggle world,” Draco said. “One of the reasons that pure-bloods want things to remain separate. Muggle bigotry is destroying our ways, ways that have been around forever.”

“You follow a half-blood,” Harry said, rolling his eyes.

“Who says we follow him?”

Blaise’s soft question rang in Harry’s ears. He’d assumed, of course that they were both Death Eaters in training. But Draco had been awfully quiet this year, keeping to himself. And honestly, Harry didn’t know that much about Blaise at all.

“So, what do we do?”

“We unlock our desire,” Blaise said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a box, opening it. Three pink keys lay in the box, glistening with sugar. Draco looked right at Harry as he reached for one. Blaise took one as well, and, lifting the third free, held it out to Harry.

Hesitantly, Harry reached out his hand, taking the offered sweet. As one, all three boys slid the candy into their mouths. Harry felt it take hold, felt the pulsing desire fill him as he looked at his two companions, who were watching him with answering need.

They flanked him, Draco gently kissing him, while Blaise licked along his neck. Harry groaned when a hand cupped his groin, pressing against his rising erection. He twined his hands in Draco’s hair, allowing them to push him back onto the cushions. Draco went with him, still kissing, his hands wandering. Blaise rolled Harry onto his side, thrusting against him as he kissed his neck, one hand on Harry’s hip, one hand massaging him through his jeans.

Draco moved against Harry from the front, his kisses growing more frantic. Pleasure welled, rushing through him, in a way he’d never felt. Harry was helpless, swept away by the sensations that Draco and Blaise were pulling from him. He half screamed into Draco’s mouth, his toes curling in his shoes as he gave in, letting the pleasure overwhelm him.

Panting, he lay quiescent while Draco and Blaise also came, until all three boys were a sweaty, boneless mass on the floor. Harry flamed as he realized what had just happened, and he scrambled up, pulling his wand to clean up the wet spot on his jeans. He started backing away, but Blaise lunged and grabbed his ankle, stopping him.

“No running this time.”

“But…” Harry sat down, collapsing onto the pillows. “I’m not ready for this.”

“Dating, maybe both of us?” Draco sat up, casting cleaning spells on himself and Blaise.

“No, dating’s fine, but this… the sex.” Harry’s blush deepened. “Those damn keys.”

“Those keys only released our inhibitions,” Blaise said, moving over to run his hands through Harry’s hair. “If we are moving too fast, then we will slow down. We are simply asking that you do not shut us out.”

“Give it a chance, Potter. Who knows what the future holds? Why not take what you can, when you can?”

“You both want to date me, and that’s ok?” Harry asked, unsure and doubting.

“Yes,” Draco said. He cupped Harry’s chin and kissed him softly.

“Yes,” Blaise echoed, pulling Harry’s face to him to place a kiss on his lips.

“All right then. I’m dating two Slytherins.” He stood, and looked at them for just a moment, before getting a sly grin on his face.

“Want to go to Puddifoot's?” he asked, thinking of the looks on the faces of his friends when they realized the situation.

Both boys smirked and rose. Draco took one of Harry’s hands, Blaise the other, and together they walked towards the front door.

“Um, but no more than kissing right now, ok?” Harry admonished, pausing.

“Snogging?” Blaise asked, almost, but not quite, kissing Harry’s neck.

“Yeah, snogging’s ok,” Harry agreed. He laughed and tugged, starting them moving again.

Draco’s words echoed in his mind. Who knew what the future held, indeed. For once, he was going to take what he could, when he could, and he was going to enjoy it, everyone else be damned.
Ending #2 by Dreamyraynbo by Emma Grant
Author's Notes:

Author: dreamyraynbo
Rating: R
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: When Harry realizes his heart’s desire, how far will he go to get it?
Warnings: Moderately fluffy since it’s for Valentine’s Day, but the boys still get to fight, of course.
Author notes: Thanks to PrincessKariboo for writing such a fun intro!

Originally posted here

“Harry, I can’t believe you just did that!” Hermione shrieked. Ron just shook his head and slumped back down in his seat as eyes turned toward them, alerted by Hermione’s exclamation.

“’Atta boy, Harry!” Fred crowed.

“Who’s it going to be, I wonder?” George spoke loudly, drawing even more attention as he and his twin clapped Harry on the back.

Harry rolled his eyes, looking around at his impromptu audience.

“Did he eat one?”
“I wonder who it will be.”
“Oh, I bet it’s that Ravenclaw, Chang.”

Murmurs traveled the Great Hall, alerting everyone to the fact that Harry Potter’s True Desire was about to be revealed.

“Thanks a lot, Hermione,” he muttered, still sucking on the pink candy.

His friend flushed. “Spit it out!” she hissed, looking at the sea of faces turned their way. “It might not be too late.”

Harry crunched down on the sweet recklessly when he saw Cho’s pretty face turned towards him. “Nah,” he replied. “What’s the harm…”

Not her.

A feeling of discontent overwhelmed Harry, making him flinch. He was staring at Cho, but suddenly was sure that was all wrong. He shuddered as his mind seemed to clear, a face swimming to the forefront. No. No bloody way.

“I’m betting it’s that oaf of a Gamekeeper he wants.”

The words cut through all other sound, pinning Harry where he sat trembling. Oh fuck. No. He struggled against the compulsion to turn and look, but this wasn’t like fighting Imperius. It wasn’t something outside compelling Harry; it was his own desire.

No. Nononononono.

He slammed his eyes shut and covered them with a shaking hand.

“Get me out of here,” he begged Hermione, sitting beside him, through gritted teeth. The Hall was filled with speculation and laughter, but all he could hear was a single voice. He felt a soft hand take his arm and start to lead him away.

“This way,” Hermione whispered.

Look at him.

“Oi, don’t let him leave!”
“Woah, is he after Granger, too?”

“Potty and the Mudblood.”

Harry froze, the need to turn toward that taunting voice pinning him. In his head he saw a mocking sneer, silver eyes, a challenge.

“It’s a mistake,” he groaned, hand lowering of its own accord.

“No, Harry, don’t look!” Hermione yanked him toward the doors, beckoning frantically for Ron to help.

The redhead was gazing forlornly at Hermione’s hand on Harry’s arm, though. When she saw his expression she gave an impatient huff.

“Ron!”

“Hermione. You and – and – ”

Harry’s eyes opened, but his friends were too busy with their own drama to notice.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hermione scoffed.

Ron’s expression hardened. “Sure looks that way to me.”

Some attention had swayed to Ron and Hermione’s fight, but there was only one gaze that pulled Harry, and he could feel it still firmly focused on him.

Hermione stomped a foot. “Ronald Weasley!”

“You should have just told me last night.”

Harry was turning.

“There is nothing to tell! Not all of us need ridiculous candies to know what we want!”

Ron gaped. “Well, what do you want, then?”

Despite the commotion, Harry vaguely noticed that plenty of people were still avidly watching him.

Hermione was flushed and obviously panicked. She stepped towards Ron, lowering her voice. “Ron, we’ll talk later.”

Ron shook his head stubbornly. “Just tell me.” Hurt rang in his voice.

Harry wanted to look, just as he’d wanted to know. Knowing was so much better.

“It’s you, alright! It’s always been you!” A chorus of “awww”s met Hermione’s statement. She spun back and grabbed Harry’s arm, dragging him out of the room.

Not before his gaze met that of Draco Malfoy, though.

>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<

Harry ignored Hermione’s tearful ranting as she pulled him along. His whole body was tingling. He knew what he wanted, and now he wanted it.

“Going back,” he said firmly, trying to get away from his friend.

“Harry, no!” She gripped tighter. “It wasn’t Cho.” She wasn’t asking.

“No.”

They had stopped in the corridor, Hermione peering at him knowingly.

“Was it Malfoy?”

Even in his hyper-focused daze he was surprised by that. Hermione laughed softly, wiping her cheeks.

“I’ve wondered for awhile, you know. You certainly spend more time watching him than anyone else.”

He just shook his head and pulled away. “Gotta go back.”

“Do you really want everybody to know, Harry? He’s not exactly the nicest person. What if he laughs at you in front of the whole school?”

Harry stared at her muzzily. “Why should that matter?”

She opened her mouth worriedly, but he cut her off before she could speak.

“I’m not hiding,” he said decisively. He strode back the way they’d come, missing her sudden look of guilt.

Harry knew she was following him, but all he was concerned with was getting to Malfoy. He flung the doors open as he marched into the Great Hall. All eyes were instantly on him.

“Apparently Golden Boy didn’t get enough attention before,” Malfoy scoffed to his tablemates. The boy’s voice was low and irritated, but to Harry it was like a caress.
Blood sang in Harry’s veins as he stalked toward the Slytherin table.

Malfoy’s glares and insults, his tormenting and mockery: somewhere along the line Harry had become addicted to the other boy’s obsession. If Malfoy was so frustratingly interesting when they were enemies, how much more so would he be if they were – something else.

For a moment, Harry almost paused. What else were they? Or could they be? He knew he couldn’t imagine life without the snarky little git in it, but did that really mean what he was making it out to mean?

Yes.

Fuck it. It was too late for thinking, now. Harry had never been particularly interested in pondering his feelings, before. He’d be damned if he was going to start now.

By the time Harry reached the Slytherin table, most of the students were on their feet. Snape was on the edge of his seat, probably poised to deduct a million points from Gryffindor for daring to venture into enemy territory. Judging by the muttering, the general consensus seemed to be that Harry was going to attack Malfoy. Harry smiled darkly to himself.

“What’s the matter, Potty, lose your Mudblood?”

Angry sounds came from the watching crowd and Professor McGonagall rose in a fury. “Mr. Malfoy!” She gasped.

Malfoy leaned back and smirked. “Maybe you should check the kitchens. That’s where her kind belong.”

Harry came to a stop before the other boy, looking down with a secretive grin.

“Actually, I was looking for an inbred pretty-boy. Guess I found one.” Harry winked lazily, one hand in his pocket, the other casually twirling his wand.

Snape and Malfoy jumped to their feet at the same time, Snape snarling about points. McGonagall rounded on him angrily. Since Malfoy stood directly in front of him, close enough that Harry could feel the heat coming off his body, Harry had no difficulty ignoring the hubbub between the teachers. His stomach fluttered, temples pounded, adrenaline raced. In short, he felt alive.

“Don’t you dare – ”

“Insult your family. Yeah yeah, heard it before.”

Malfoy spluttered. Harry grinned and closed the infinitesimal distance between them, placing his mouth right by the other boy’s ear.

“Want to fight about it? Thirty minutes from now, behind Greenhouse Three. Come alone, unless you’re scared. Just you and me.” Harry let his lips brush the boy’s earlobe and had to restrain himself from pouncing when he saw goosebumps lift on Malfoy’s neck.

“What are you playing at, Potter?” Malfoy growled. “How do I know you aren’t setting me up?”

Harry patted Malfoy’s cheek, admiring the smooth texture. “Because you know me,” he replied, smirking.

Rage at Harry’s temerity battled with confusion over his words. “Fine,” Malfoy snapped at last.

Harry gave his cheek one last pat – caress? – and turned to leave, surging with exhilaration. A hand clamped around his wrist, drawing him to a halt. He looked back.

“Just be sure you keep to your side of the bargain, Potter.”

Harry nodded in amusement, something that seemed to leave Malfoy even more suspicious. Malfoy dropped his wrist with a muttered oath, leaving Harry to exit again.

>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<

Harry was glad when Ron cornered Hermione, as it meant he was able to sneak away without dealing with what promised to be awkward questions. He raced up to the dorms and grabbed his Cloak and Map, taking a quick look in the mirror. His hair was hopeless, he knew, as were the glasses. Since it was a Saturday, he was dressed in casual Muggle clothes, not Dudley cast-offs, but some good jeans and a black sweater he’d bought himself. Although he wasn’t overly concerned with fashion, it was nice to at least have clothes that fit. Brushing a piece of lint off his shoulder, Harry turned sideways, peering at his reflection.

Hermione had told him once that he was good-looking, and he knew he wasn’t hideous, but a spike of despair stabbed through him as he took in his skinny body and otherwise haphazard appearance.

Malfoy always looked so bloody elegant, he mused mournfully. Why would someone like that be interested in the rather questionable charms Harry possessed? He peered closer into the glass. His chin was weird, he realized, and his nose was really too pointy. If he took his glasses off, his green eyes were kind of alright, but you hardly noticed them behind his usual thick lenses.

Sighing, Harry shoved his glasses back on and forced himself out of his self-conscious funk. As much as it scared him, he had meant what he’d said to Hermione: whether or not Malfoy returned his interest was less important at the moment than making sure the boy knew how Harry felt. After all, Harry hardly expected Malfoy to fall swooning at his feet. He did expect taunts, sneers, and maybe a hex or two. But that was, after all, part of what attracted Harry to him. That stubborn refusal to give an inch where Harry was concerned was intriguing, never failing to bring Harry’s competitive nature to the fore.

With a final brush at his clothes, Harry swept the Cloak around him and began the trek to the greenhouses.

Struggling to keep his nerves down, Harry concentrated on avoiding potential obstacles on his way to the rendezvous. It seemed that every shadowed corner was inhabited with lovey-dovey couples. He found it quite interesting to see some of the pairings taking place. Even though most of the students were making their ways down to Hogsmeade and the more commercialized romance of Madame Puddifoot’s, obviously some were content with the decidedly less pink atmosphere of the hallways outside the Charms classroom.

Harry rushed past each of these moaning testaments to the day, wishing he could close his ears to the passionate sounds. They just made him more nervous.

When he finally made his way out to the greenhouses, he stopped and scanned the Marauder’s Map to see if Malfoy was even there and if he’d brought backup, if he was. He felt a shiver in his very core when he established that the dot on the Map that represented Malfoy was, indeed, alone. With further perusal, Harry discovered that Crabbe and Goyle were in the Slytherin common room with a few others.

Harry took a deep breath, tucked the Map away, and removed the Invisibility Cloak. He took a moment to steel himself for the coming encounter. The desperation of earlier, brought about by the Twins’ candy, had worn off; he was now running solely on his own impulses.

Draco.

Alright, mostly.

Quietly, wand at the ready, Harry slipped around Greenhouse Three, grinning like a crazy man when he saw Malfoy, breath misting in the cool air, impatiently tapping his wand into his hand.

“Potter,” the boy snapped when Harry came into view. “What are you smiling about? You’re late.”

Harry glanced at his watch. “By two minutes. And I’m smiling because I didn’t think you’d have the nerve to show up.”

Pink suffused Malfoy’s pale cheeks. “I’m not a coward.”

“No,” Harry agreed. “You’re not.” He stepped closer, chuckling when Malfoy backed away.

“Are we going to duel or what?” the blond asked edgily.

“That’s not why I’m here,” Harry admitted, his glib tone bringing the other boy up short.

“What do you mean, that’s not why you’re here? That’s what you said!” There was panic in Malfoy’s silver eyes as Harry began stalking towards him again.

“Had to say something to get you alone.”

Malfoy blinked twice, mouth working silently. “What?”

Harry backed him towards a tree, ignoring the wand that rose to point at his head. Malfoy seemed to be trying to sink into the trunk he pressed himself against.

“What are you doing? I’ll call Crabbe and Goyle!”

Harry smirked. “They’re not here, though. They’re in your common room with Nott and Parkinson.”

Although it was clear that Malfoy wanted to push Harry away, his raised hands stilled at that statement.

“How the fuck do you know that?” Gleaming, furious eyes narrowed to slits.

If Harry had been anyone else, he would have moved away. Instead, he leaned closer. “I’ll tell you, on one condition.”

“You’ll – what is wrong with you, Potter?”

“The condition is that you let me kiss you.”

Once again Harry saw his nemesis at a total lack for words. Malfoy blanched when Harry offered his deal, but red quickly started creeping up his neck. Harry watched his reaction with great satisfaction.

“You’ve got to be out of your bloody mind,” Malfoy stated flatly, “if you think I’m going to let you lay a finger on – ”

Harry’s was as fast off the Quidditch Pitch as on, as he proved by swiftly wrapping his left hand around the back of Malfoy’s head, burying his fingers in silky heat. He pinned Malfoy’s wand hand with the other and moved in for the kill.

“Maybe I am,” he grinned, eyes dropping to pink lips. “Obviously I am,” he corrected before pressing his mouth hard against Malfoy’s.

Although the blond was taller by a good three inches, the boys’ strengths were evenly matched. Malfoy struggled against Harry’s grip, against the kiss, but didn’t get away until Harry let him.

Face tingling and body burning, Harry moved back quickly, avoiding the kick that was aimed at one of his more sensitive areas. He had snatched Malfoy’s wand while the boy was distracted, just to make sure he wasn’t Crucioed.

“You fucking bastard!” Malfoy growled. The normal coolness of the Slytherin was beyond ruffled; it was stripped away, leaving a mussed and seething teenage boy.

Harry tipped his head to the side. “I’ve got a question for you, Malfoy.” He ducked under the fist that swung for his nose. “Would you calm down already?”

A wordless shout of rage came from the angry boy as he barreled at Harry. Rolling his eyes, Harry stepped to the side and stuck his foot out. When Malfoy tumbled to the ground, Harry knelt beside him, although not too close.

“Nothing personal, Malfoy, but I’ve had a guy at least five times your size try to pound the shit out of me. I’m not quite as easy to beat as I used to be.”

Malfoy just lay on his stomach in the dirt, breathing hard. Harry patted him on the back. “So, will you just let me ask you one question? If you do, I promise I’ll give you your wand back and we can duel if you want.”

He smiled brightly when he caught a muffled “fuck you.”

“I’m gonna leave that one alone for now,” he laughed. “What I wanted to know was… Well, First Year you offered me your hand. Was that because you actually wanted to be friends, or was it something else?”

Malfoy pushed himself into a sitting position and looked at Harry incredulously. “Why in Salazar’s name do you care?”

Harry shrugged. “I just wondered if, you know, you might want to give being friends a try now.”

“Let me get this straight,” Malfoy said, waving his arms around. “You insult my family, challenge me to a duel, kiss me, take my wand, knock me down, and ask to be friends? Is that what’s happened or did I hit my head on some stairs and fall into some fucked up dream?”

“Er, no. That’s what happened.”

“You have got to be the strangest person I’ve ever known, Potter.” Malfoy stood confidently, twisting a bit to coax a pop from his neck.

“Alright,” he said. “You got your question. Give me my wand.”

Harry, who had risen when the other boy did, glanced down at the slender implement he held. “Don’t you want to know how I knew where Crabbe and Goyle were?”

“Are you going to tell me?” Malfoy drawled sarcastically, still holding his hand out.

Harry’s lips twitched. “I told you I would.”

Malfoy’s foot began to tap with annoyance. “Then tell me, but give me back my wand, first!”

“If you let me kiss you, I said.”

“You already fucking did!” Malfoy protested.

“But you didn’t let me. You kept wriggling around, trying to kick me.” Harry almost laughed out loud at the expression of bewilderment on the other boy’s face.

“You’re kidding me, right? Having me on? Taking the mickey?”

Harry moved closer, stuck both wands in his back pocket, and shook his head. Greedily, he took in the way Malfoy’s throat worked when he swallowed.

“So what, you want to redeem me or something? Save me from my wicked ways?”

“Maybe eventually,” Harry said seriously. “Right now, though, I just want you.”

Something flashed in the quicksilver of Malfoy’s eyes, something that drew Harry even closer, almost snapping the control he’d imposed on himself.

“Malfoy,” he murmured, reaching a hand towards the unnaturally still boy. Tension sang in every aspect of Malfoy’s stance when Harry brushed the back the back of his knuckles down one smooth cheek. When no screaming, punching, or spontaneous hexes seemed forthcoming, he let himself trail a finger over the very corner of the usually sneering mouth, marveling at the almost-tremble in the full lips.

“You know, I wonder what would have happened if nobody had told me that Slytherins were rotters before the first Sorting.” Harry spoke softly, ever so slowly closing the distance between them. “The Hat wanted to put me in there.”

Malfoy started at that. “What?” he gasped.

“Oh yeah,” Harry lifted his other hand until he was gently cradling Malfoy’s face. “Imagine the way things could have been if you and I back then had been just – just you and me. Not kids who’d been told who and what we were supposed to like, kids who were tossed in the middle of some huge fucking battle. Just kids.”

“Potter – ” The word sounded like a warning.

“Whatever, Malfoy, you know it’s true. For both of us.” He didn’t know what he was saying. Or rather, he did, but he didn’t care, anymore. He didn’t want to talk, anymore.

Slowly, giving the other boy ample time to pull away, Harry let his lips brush skin. Chin, cheek, throat. Malfoy let him. In fact, he responded, moving closer. Their bodies met in a hot line.

“You don’t mean it,” Draco whispered fearfully.

Part of Harry wanted to counter the way he always did with Draco: act first, talk – well, usually never, but in this case it would be later. However, they weren’t the same, this was a situation unlike any they’d ever known, and Harry needed to prove to the other boy that things could be different.

“Do you want me to announce it in the Great Hall? Follow you around like your own sad-eyed puppy? Beg acceptance from Snape?”

“You wouldn’t.” Draco’s eyes were wild, his fingers dug into Harry’s hips painfully.

“I would if you wanted it,” Harry promised.

“You’re all talk, Potter,” Draco murmured.

Harry heard the challenge and pounced. A groan escaped from Draco’s throat as Harry wrapped his fingers in that silken hair and tugged, sealing Draco’s lips with his own. They melted together, melded, fused, and Harry never wanted to move again. Then he felt Draco’s mouth open to him and they were thrusting, tongues mimicking bodies mimicking tongues. Harry had never been so hard before and knew it was because he’d never had Draco Malfoy in his arms.

The stray thought passed through his mind that nothing would ever be the same again, but then Draco threw his head back in a gasping moan and all higher mental functioning ceased. He plunged a hand into Draco’s pants, squeezing and stroking the other boy’s erection while sucking on his collarbone. Slim hips bucked. When Draco whimpered, Harry was undone, spilling into his pants even as his lover came to a shuddering climax in his hand.

Silence fell, panting breaths filling the air. The boys leaned together, sated and scared.

“You can still leave,” Draco mumbled, refusing to meet Harry’s eyes.

“I don’t want to,” Harry said softly, nuzzling at Draco’s throat. “Please…” he started, then paused, not sure.

“You really mean it?” There was shocked wonder in Draco’s voice.

Harry pressed his forehead to Draco’s, hands holding the other boy’s face. “I promise.”

After a moment that left Harry’s heart in his feet, Draco laughed unsteadily.

“Daft Gryffindor,” he said.

Harry grinned. “Stubborn Slytherin.”

Draco peered at Harry musingly. “You know,” he said, brushing Harry’s cheek with his own, “I have always wanted a puppy.”

The End
Ending #3 by Emma Grant by Emma Grant
Author's Notes:

Author: Emma Grant (emmagrant01)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: Harry finds that the Keys to Desire open doors that should remain firmly closed. Unless he can turn things to his own advantage...
Warnings: None

Originally posted here

~*~

It was flavored differently than he'd expected, sort of a cross between bubble gum and mouthwash. It wasn't completely pleasant, either, and he struggled not to make a face as the candy key began to dissolve on his tongue.

"Well?" Ron asked, eyeing him as if he were one of Snape's specimens.

"Give it a moment," Harry said around the candy. "It took you a bit, didn't it?"

"Not really," Ron replied, looking uncomfortable. "I just managed to keep it in for a while, and then--" He broke off, glancing at Hermione.

Hermione was busy watching Harry's face with more than a bit of concern. "You don't look so well, Harry. Maybe you should spit it out. I don't think I trust Fred and Geo--"

Harry shook his head. "I'm fine. I don't feel anything." He glanced around the Great Hall, but his eyes didn't fall on anyone in particular.

"Maybe you don't desire anyone," Ron said with a shrug.

Harry snorted. "Well that's… I mean…" He blushed, realizing he'd nearly blurted out something about wanking in front of Hermione. He lowered his voice and gave Ron a meaningful look. "You know that's not true."

"Hmmmph," Hermione said, looking a bit annoyed. "When you're quite finished scanning the school for your one true love, we've got a lesson to get to."

"He's not looking for love," Ron said, grinning. "He's looking for a shag!"

Hermione's cheeks turned pink, and she was momentarily speechless. She opened her mouth as if to reply, but no sound emerged. After an awkward moment, she picked up her large stack of books and walked away. Ron's eyes lingered on her as she left, his gaze fixed on a part of her anatomy that was swaying a bit more than usual.

Harry sighed. "I don't think it's working."

"Maybe you got a bad one," Ron said, peering into the box at the remaining keys. "Why do you need three, anyway? How many girls could you possibly be in love with?"

"Think I should try another one?" Harry asked, reaching for the box. "Maybe they don't all have to do with people. Maybe one of them is for your favorite food, or something."

"Craving anything?" Ron raised an eyebrow and grinned.

Harry felt a weird twist in his stomach. He frowned. "I just ate but I'm kind of… hungry. I think." He looked back at Ron, but he'd already got up to leave.

"I'm skiving off potions today," he said over his shoulder. "Have fun."

Harry started to grumble, and then found himself staring at Ron's arse as he walked away. He blinked, but Ron had disappeared through the door.

~*~

Potions without Ron was worse than usual, because Snape seemed to assume that Harry was not only aware of Ron's whereabouts, but also was complicit in his absence. The way Snape had hovered over his desk and demanded to know where Ron was in a deep and rumbling voice had made Harry feel distinctly uneasy. Normally he just felt hatred for Snape, but today it was somehow different. When Snape had threatened to force Harry to try his boil-producing potion on himself, Harry had found he could only stare at him in response. Snape had seemed unsettled by this, and cast odd looks at Harry for the rest of the lesson.

"See me after class, Potter," he hissed as the other students were packing up their bags.

Harry grimaced; he'd been extraordinarily distracted throughout the lesson, and now he was probably about to get a detention with Snape. Maybe he could serve it concurrently with his occlumency lessons. Those always felt like punishment anyway.

"Need more remedial potions, Potter?" A sneering voice asked. Harry turned, a foul reply poised on his lips, but froze at the sight before him: Malfoy's usual sneer looked more like a smile today.

Harry closed his eyes and opened them again, confused. Malfoy didn't look any different than usual, but somehow it seemed different. He realized he'd said nothing for several seconds, and managed a half-hearted, "Sorry?" He felt quite stupid, but there was nothing for it. Malfoy stepped closer, his expression incredulous.

"Weasley must have possession of the brain you two share today," Malfoy said, casting knowing glances at Nott and Goyle, who flanked him.

Harry felt dizzy. He took a steadying breath, but all he could smell was Malfoy, for some reason. "I… yeah," he replied. He stared at Malfoy, transfixed.

"What's your problem, Potter?" Malfoy snarled, stepping even closer. He glanced down Harry's form, and Harry felt as if he were on a cheap carnival ride, the sort Dudley used to try to push him off the top of. "What's this?" Malfoy asked, and Harry realized with a start that Malfoy was holding the open box containing the two remaining keys. It had been sitting on the desk next to his bag.

"Give it back!" Harry sputtered, reaching for it.

Malfoy's face split into a wicked grin. "Don't you Gryffindors know how to share?" He plucked one of the candy keys from the box and raised it to his nose.

"Malfoy," Harry groaned, still trying to grab the key away. "It's just some stupid candy."

Malfoy raised an elegant eyebrow and then popped the key into his mouth.

Harry froze. He had no idea what to expect. He watched Malfoy's face screw up in displeasure.

"Ugh, it's revolting! What kind of candy is this?"

"If it's so horrible, spit it out," Harry replied, a bit too hastily.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed as he read the label on the box. "The keys to desire? What sort of rubbish is this?"

"Nothing," Harry retorted, turning back to his books. It hadn't worked for him, anyway. "Never mind. Enjoy it."

There was a strange coughing sound, and Harry turned back to see that Malfoy had gone rather red in the face. He was staring at Harry with a look of mild horror. "This is your idea of a sick joke, is it?"

Harry gazed back at him, his face carefully blank.

Malfoy grasped him by the front of his robes and hauled him forward, so close they were inches apart. Harry swallowed. Under normal circumstances, they'd be swinging at each other now, but Harry found he could only stare back into those cool grey eyes. He managed to shake his head, though his lips wouldn't quite form the words, "No joke."

"Mister Malfoy, are you quite finished?" Snape's sneering voice asked. Malfoy looked startled, but he let Harry go without argument and backed away. Goyle and Nott were staring at him, both uncertain. "You will be late for Defense Against the Dark Arts," Snape continued, staring pointedly at Malfoy.

To Harry's surprise, Malfoy simply nodded, picked up his satchel, and left, his lackeys trailing behind him. Harry turned back to Snape, feeling an odd stab of excitement mixed with his typical loathing.

Snape stared at him for what seemed like several seconds, looking thoroughly un-Snapelike. "You'll be late for your next lesson," he said at last, turning away.

"I…" Harry began, and then stopped himself from pushing his luck. This had to have been the oddest morning of his life.

~*~

Lunch was far more uncomfortable than it had any right to be. Harry's odd morning had left him edgy and distracted, and he found himself staring after nearly everyone that walked by the table: Seamus Finnegan, Colin Creevey (which had the unfortunate effect of making Colin rather excited), Blaise Zabini, Zacharias Smith…

Harry swallowed, feeling his cheeks heat. He'd only been staring at boys, now that he thought of it. That was odd.

Ginny Weasley sat across from him, blocking his view of Thomas Everhart. Harry frowned at her.

"What's with you?" she asked, reaching across the table for the butter.

Harry shrugged. "Nothing. I dunno. I think I'm just tired."

"Hunh," she replied in a sort of disinterested tone. "You didn't happen to eat one of Fred and George's love keys, did you?"

Harry's head popped up. "What?"

"They're just having some odd side effects." She gave him an appraising look. "Maybe you should go lie down."

"Right," Harry replied. Odd side effects That was an understatement.

Of course, he had Defense Against the Dark Arts next lesson, and if he skived off he'd likely be carving I must attend lessons into his hand for three hours Friday night. With a groan, he gathered up his things and left, not even saying goodbye to Ginny.

~*~

Harry couldn't manage to study that evening, no matter how hard he tried. Everything was distracting him -- Ron brushing his hair out of his eyes every so often as he bent over his parchment; Dean and Seamus wrestling on the rug in the middle of the common room; Marcus Dillory chewing on the end of his quill as he watched Lavender Brown bend over to pick something up off the floor.

"Harry, mate?" It was George. He'd appeared at Harry's side without him noticing.

Fred peeked out from behind him. "Can we have a word?"

They jerked their heads toward the portrait hole in perfect unison.

Harry sighed. "Yeah, sure. I'm not getting anything done here anyway." He gathered his things and followed them out into the corridor, trying very hard not to stare at their arses. Those two were on the verge of growing out of their second-hand trousers.

"We forget to tell you," George began.

"The keys," Fred continued, "you know, the candy we gave you yesterday -- they each do something slightly different."

Harry stopped walking and turned to stare at them.

"Right," George said, looking uneasy. "Ginny said you--"

"That's not important, though," Fred interrupted, shooting his brother a look. "Which keys did you eat?"

"I…" Harry fumbled through the pocket of his robe for the box. He opened it to show that the middle one remained.

"Did you eat both of them?" George asked. The apprehension in his tone was quite apparent.

"No," Harry replied, feeling a bit queasy. The Weasley twins were tall, and he hadn't been this close to them in a while. He had to look up at them, and he was feeling weirdly dizzy again. Just like he had that morning after potions, come to think of it. "I ate this one," he continued, pointing to the empty space to the left of the remaining key. And… someone else ate the other one."

Fred and George looked visibly relieved. "Oh, well then," Fred said. "Nothing to worry about."

"Nothing at all," George quipped. They grinned at Harry and started to turn away.

"Hang on," Harry said. "What were you worried about?"

The twins exchanged a look. "Well, you see," Fred began, "we forgot to tell you that the first and second keys are for you, but the third is for someone else."

"Someone else?" Harry felt a sinking feeling in his stomach replace the mildly butterflied one. "Who?"

"You see," George said, "the second key is just a stronger version of the first."

"If you ate the first one, you only got a hint about what you desired. If you ate the second--"

"Like you made Ron do," Harry interjected.

"He needed a good kick in the arse," Fred continued. "Anyway, it's at least twice as strong. And the third is the one you give to the person who is the object of your desire."

"And if they desire you as well, you'll know," George finished.

Harry felt all the blood drain from his face. "So… what if someone eats the third one… accidentally?"

"Same general effect," Fred said with a wink. "How did she react?"

Harry swallowed. "I have to go," he said, and turned and sprinted down the corridor.

He'd intended to go to the library, but he was so distracted he soon found himself in a dusty corridor, not even having noticed that the staircase had moved while he was on it. He stopped and stared around him, as things began to fall into place in his mind. The key he'd eaten was just a mildly powered one, a hint -- and ever since he'd eaten it, he'd done little more than gape at every boy in the school.

He dropped his bag and pressed his face into his hands.

"This corridor is off-limits." Harry looked up to see Malfoy stepping from the shadows, his customary sneer gone.

"So take points off," Harry spat.

"I might," Malfoy replied. He leaned against the stone wall, looking almost feline. "We need to talk, Potter."

Harry snorted. "About what?" He had a fairly good idea about what, unfortunately.

"The candy you forced me to eat this morning was--"

"I didn't force you to do anything," Harry grumbled. "You stole it, remember?"

"-- hexed, or had some sort of potion in it," Malfoy continued. "It was rather clever, I must admit, but enough already. Reverse it."

"I can't," Harry replied, finally looking up to meet Malfoy's gaze. He saw Malfoy swallow, as if unsettled. "It was one of Fred and George Weasley's inventions. Even they aren't sure how to reverse it."

Malfoy's jaw clenched, but he didn't react as Harry expected. He just stood there, looking somewhere between sad and angry. "What does it do, anyway?"

"It shows you… " Harry paused, uncertain how best to proceed. He was actually starting to feel a bit sorry for Malfoy, and that was uncharted territory. He looked away. "Who you secretly desire." That was almost true.

Malfoy walked closer, so close that Harry could smell him again. He must have showered recently -- no one could always smell so clean like that, could they? Harry looked up again and found himself looking at a face he'd never quite seen before. Malfoy's expression was almost soft, curious and uncertain. He felt that dizzy tingly sensation again, and this time it made sense.

"So what do you desire, then?" he asked. He marveled that his voice didn't break from the tension.

Malfoy didn't speak. He didn't change his expression, even -- he just leaned forward and kissed Harry.

Harry was stunned into immobility. This was nothing like the slobbery teary kiss he'd shared with Cho before Christmas holidays -- this was somehow everything he'd ever imagined a kiss would be like.

Except that it was Malfoy who was kissing him. Malfoy, who was not only someone Harry despised, but also a boy. He felt himself tense up, and Malfoy pulled away, staring at him.

"I--" Harry began, but Malfoy cut him off, his expression fierce.

"If you ever breathe a word of this to anyone, I will kill you."

"Who would I tell?" Harry retorted. "Who would I want to tell? Merlin, Malfoy!" He wiped a hand across his lips, making a face.

Malfoy's features hardened. "Ten points from Gryffindor for being in an off-limits area of the school."

"Fuck you," Harry said, and turned to walk away.

The spell that hit him knocked him to the floor, and he found himself scrambling to his feet again. Malfoy's wand was trained on him, though, and there was nothing he could do but stand there and glower back.

"You should show more respect for a Prefect of the school and a member of the Inquisitorial Squad," Malfoy said.

"Do you treat everyone like this after you kiss them?" Harry retorted. "No wonder you only hang around with goons all the time."

"I only kissed you because of that stupid love potion," Malfoy hissed.

"It wasn't a potion," Harry said. It was remarkably easy to keep his voice level and calm. Something about seeing Malfoy coming undone like this enthralled him, and he stepped closer. "It revealed a truth about you, something you didn't want to know, and you can't reverse that."

Malfoy kept his wand trained on Harry, but his hand was trembling.

"You want me," Harry said, moving close enough that Malfoy's wand touched his chest.

"I want you dead," Malfoy replied.

"No, you don't." Harry plastered a wicked smile on his face. "You want me on my knees in front of you, sucking you off."

Malfoy just stared at him in response, as if he didn't know how to respond to that.

"So you should ask me nicely," Harry continued, pushing Malfoy's wand aside and leaning close enough that he could see the little beads of sweat on Malfoy's forehead. "And maybe I'll think about it."

Harry slid one hand around the back of Malfoy's neck and pulled him into a hard kiss, then pushed him roughly away. Malfoy stared at him, dumbfounded.

Harry walked away.

~*~

Back in his bed, Harry opened the box again and stared at the last key. He'd considered eating it, but in truth, he didn't want to know if Malfoy was the one he truly desired. For now, it was far too beneficial to be the one holding the cards. He knew how Malfoy felt, and he could use it to his advantage. He had a feeling he was going to need it.

He closed the box and put it into his trunk, and settled under the sheets. One hand snaked into his pyjama bottoms, but he didn't let himself think of anyone in particular.

He smiled.

~ fin ~
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