Harry Potter Hogwarts Hijinks

DISCLAIMER

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

THIS STORY CONTAINS: adult language; explicit sexual encounters;

TRIGGER WARNINGS:

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FOREWORD

Dearest Reader...

This story is a sequel to "The Secret Scroll." The author suggests that you read that story first, as many plot points from that tale are relevant here. This story was written before HP&tHBP's heartbreaking events, so let's just call it an alternate-universe story, thus no one has to nitpick continuity, timeline, or canonical errors. It's so much easier to enjoy the story that way, in any case.

Side note: This story was originally published at another site, three days after HP&tHBP hit the stores, and was dedicated to all those poor souls who were still waiting for their owls from Amazon.com, where I offered, "Here's something to read until it arrives..."

"The Lion, The Serpent, and the Owl" by CyberBowl

CHAPTER 1: Haven't I Seen You Somewhere Before?

Draco Malfoy watched, as the trapdoor leading out of the Divination classroom seemed to rise by itself. The old door creaked, of course, but another creaking could also be heard. The wooden ladder below was complaining under an unseen burden.

The ladder soon stopped carping, and then the trapdoor closed with a dull thud.

"It's about time," Draco said, as he tossed his shoes aside. "I was getting lonely."

Harry Potter's head peeked out from beneath his Invisibility Cloak. It appeared to be floating in mid-air. "Sorry," he apologized, "Filch is actually working tonight. I had to go around where he was mopping. I was leaving footprints."

Draco unbuttoned his shirt. "I have been waiting for this, all day!"

"I know. I spied you playing with yourself in Potions."

"I saw you stealing glances at me. I decided it was unfair for me to be the only one with a hard-on." Draco's trousers slid to the floor. His hunter-green, silk boxers were already tenting. "Are you just going to float there? Lose the Cloak, and get undressed! I'm so randy, I could burst!"

"How's this for service?" Harry dropped the Cloak. He was naked underneath, his young manhood pointing directly at his lover.

Draco was honestly stunned. "You've been traipsing starkers around Hogwarts? The forgetfulness and obliviousness charm wore off after the scroll vanished, you know! You could have been caught! A bit out of character, isn't it, Harry?"

"I've had a bit of Malfoy in me recently," Harry wickedly joked. He dove at Draco, tackling him into the pile of pillows that served as a makeshift bed in this, their secret tryst room. Well, one of them, anyway.

Draco caught the double entendre, as Harry caught him. "More than a bit, if I recall correctly." Draco covered Harry's face with kisses. "I buggered you to the hilt. Right-there!" He poked a finger, and scored a bull's-eye. Harry let out a yelp. "Don't mess with me, `Potter.' I've got a lot more experience at being a smart-arse than you."

There was a time when Draco only called him `Potter' with venom in his voice. Since they had discovered love, during the Secret Scroll Affair, it had become a pet name—a secret signal that he was feeling especially naughty. Where, once, the sound of his surname falling from Draco's lips set his teeth on edge, now, the sound of those two syllables filled Harry with nothing but primal, animal desire.

"I hear that's not the only area in which you have more experience. At least, that's what I've read on the bathroom walls. Now, shut it, and kiss me, my not-so-cherry tart!"

"Damn," Draco said, "You're getting better at this. Very well. Point: Potter. Game, set, and match. Come. Collect your prize." Draco licked his lips, and moved in to kiss Harry.

Their kiss was slow, and deep. Draco adored the feel of Harry's tongue in his mouth. They ran their hands over each other's body, as their tongues danced circles around each other.

Harry enjoyed grinding his hardness against Draco's silk boxers. The fabric was being soaked from both sides, as their erections started seeping moisture. Harry moved to slip the shorts down, but Draco grabbed his wrists. "No hands," he challenged. Harry smiled, and the challenge was accepted. He kissed and licked his way down to the waistband. He gripped it with his teeth, and pulled it away from Draco's belly.

He peeked in, and saw Draco's penis staring up at him. The tip, shiny with moisture, looked quite inviting, but Harry had a job to do. Draco raised his bum, and Harry slid the boxers down, and off. Draco lowered himself back onto the pillows, and Harry took a moment to admire the body of his new lover. He especially liked the way the cock he adored was now filling Draco's navel with liquid anticipation.

Harry moved up, and lapped at the slick puddle. Draco was throbbing with each heartbeat, and the pace increased, as Harry's tongue tweaked in and around his sensitive navel. Harry's downy cheek was now the recipient of a fresh flow from Draco. He turned his face, and ran his tongue up Draco's length. Draco moaned.

Harry addressed the member, as he tweaked the tip with his nose. "And, what would YOU like to do tonight, little fellow?"

Draco answered for his silently screaming erection. "He wants to practice counting in French. Stop him when he gets to soixante-neuf."

Harry smiled. "Bien sûr, Monsieur Malfoi." He pronounced it Mal-fwa. Draco smiled. Harry scooted around, and they grabbed each other's bums. French, and all other verbal language, became unnecessary.

They sucked each other slowly, savoring the taste of desire. Draco ran a finger up and down, between Harry's bum cheeks, tickling the puckered rosebud at the center, each time he passed. He slipped one finger in, and began slowly, gently stroking Harry's prostate, as he sucked.

It intensified the sensations Harry was feeling, and he couldn't wait to return the favor. He sent one brave explorer in, to seek a grail of its own. They rolled over, and back again, sucking, and prodding. They both moaned, as their tongues and fingers worked their magick on each other.

Though their relationship was barely six weeks' old, they were quite adept at sensing each other's impending orgasm. This time, however, they were both struggling so hard not to come, that neither realized they were both close.

"Hurry, Harry! I'm waiting for you!" Draco was thinking. He could feel the point-of-no-return rapidly approaching. His cock achieved its final level of stiffness.

"Me? I was waiting for you!" Harry's cock also answered back, mutely, but with a pulse of extra hardness.

They surrendered together. Their moans turned to grunts, as their mouths filled with evidence of their mutual devotion. Neither wanted to be the first to stop sucking, so they forced their tongues to keep working, despite the lightheadedness caused by the intense climax. That they adored the taste of each other made the task all the easier.

Finally, Harry could take no more. His penis became hypersensitive, and Draco's ministrations were driving him mad. His hips began to twitch, violently, and he had to pull out of Draco's mouth. He released Draco, and panted, "No more, No more."

Draco took that as a sign of a job well done. He smiled at Harry. At Harry's crotch, anyway. "That was brilliant, Harry." He shifted around, so they could kiss. Their flavors mingled together in their mouths.

Harry broke the kiss, still a bit breathleess. "So were you," he smiled. "That finger thing was a surprise! Dare I ask—?"

"Theodore. He's a dirty old man just waiting to happen."

"Remind me to send him a thank-you owl." They snuggled for a while, neither in any hurry to be anywhere else. "So, how are you, really, Draco?"

"Fine, really."

"Are you sure? It must be a lot of work for you, pretending to still be a royal prick. That's not you, anymore."

"I'll live. I don't want to tell anyone, just yet. They'll all have opinions, of course. Merlin knows, there's always been shagging in the dorms. Well, at least two generations that we know of. Still, you don't hear too much about two boys falling in love at Hogwarts. Not to mention the fact that I'm in Slytherin, and you're in Gryffindor. I don't want all that to tarnish what we have. I love you so much, Harry." He buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck, and held on for dear life.

Harry squeezed Draco tightly, kissing the top of his light-blond head. "I love you, too, Draco. And, I don't care who knows it."

"Not yet, Harry. Let's keep us private for just a little while longer... plaese." The word still felt strange on Draco's tongue. But he meant it sincerely.

"All right, Draco. Whatever you want. What I want, right now, though, is a kiss." He lifted Draco's face so that their eyes met.

"I can do that." Draco kissed Harry, gratefully. He was blissfully happy, and this was also a new feeling for him. He wallowed in the feelings of comfort, and security. He swore to himself that he would never do anything to risk losing Harry.

Harry felt the same about Draco. It was hard for him to believe how recently they were bitter enemies. Now, they were each other's first, true love. All thanks to their fathers, who arranged for them to experience this gamut of emotions.

"We should get going," Harry said, finally.

"I know," Draco glumly admitted.

"We've been pushing our luck, using this classroom."

"I know. We really ought to work out a schedule with Justin and Ron. The Room of Requirement is so much more comfortable. We could probably share it. It's not like we all haven't seen each other naked before. Hell, we've all HAD each other before. What do you think?"

"It wouldn't hurt to ask," Harry shrugged.

"Good," Draco beamed, springing to his feet. "Let's go."

"Now?"

"Why not? Come on. Grab the Cloak!" Draco grabbed his clothing. He tossed his boxers at Harry. "Put these on, just in case we get caught," he urged, as he slipped on his trousers. Harry slipped on the silk shorts. Draco thought he looked extremely sexy in them. "Nice," he complimented his lover. "They bring out your eyes."

"They're still a bit damp in spots."

"Well," Draco teased, "Whose fault is that?"

"I believe the Yanks said it best: I refuse to answer on the grounds that it might incriminate me."

The returned the pillows to their prior locations. As they were replacing the last two, their bare feet happened to step upon the same floorboard, at the same time. A familiar-sounding crack stopped them in their tracks. Sure enough, the floorboard opened to reveal a secret hiding place, identical to the one they'd found several weeks back, in the Potions classroom.

"Not again!" Draco whined. "What now?"

Harry knelt down. He peeked into the cavity, and saw a piece of parchment. "Well, it's not another scroll," he said, as he wriggled it out.

"It's a note. Who wrote it?"

Harry brushed years of dust off the document. "Sybil Trelawney." That raised Draco's eyebrow.

They read the note:

Dear boys,

If you have found this letter, you're already past the challenges set forth by your fathers, and are, hopefully, quite in love with each other. This is magnificent! I foresee much joy in your futures, but your love will be tested, soon. Have faith in yourselves, and each other, and you will persevere. I've foreseen a happy ending, but such outcomes are delicate and fragile things. There is one among you who will not approve of your love, and will attempt to sabotage your Destinies. Beware!

Help is on the way. Expect an owl upon the morrow.

My best wishes follow you everywhere,

—Sybil Trelawney

"Bloody hell," Draco fumed. "Now, you see why I want to keep us a secret. Someone's out to get us!"

"But, who—?"

"Snape, most likely. That slimy ponce is so miserable, it would make sense if it were he."

"We should tell Ron and Justin about this, straightaway."

They gave the classroom the once-over, to be sure everything they'd disturbed was back in its proper place, including the floorboard. Satisfied, they opened the trapdoor, saw no one about, and climbed down the ladder. They huddled together, under Harry's Cloak, and crept past ghosts, faculty members, and nosy portraits, to the Room of Requirement.

Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ron Weasley were lying, naked, on the great bed. They didn't see the door open, because Justin was helping Ron with his homework. Justin was using his wand to suspend a candle in mid-air. Ron was trying to turn it into a pitcher of butterbeer. He had just succeeded, when Harry and Draco popped out from beneath the Cloak. Justin was startled, and lost his concentration. The pitcher overturned, soaking Ron in the sweet, creamy beverage. "Fuck, Harry!" he cried.

"That's my job, Ron," Draco laughed.

"Sorry, Ron," Harry apologized.

"Me, too, Ron," added Justin, but he was giggling.

"What are you doing here? We don't go up to Divination to peep at you!"

"We found another magickal floorboard," said Harry. "There was a note inside, from Trelawney. She's foreseen that someone is going to throw a spanner into our futures." He handed the note to Ron.

Justin read it over Ron's shoulder. "Oi, Harry. We should take this seriously. We'll have to keep our eyes open, of course, but there's not a lot to be done tonight. We'll have to wait for the owl."

"He's right, Harry," Ron agreed. "Besides, I've got to go clean up. I'm a sticky mess!"

Justin put up his hand, in protest. "Oh, no, Ron. It was these two trespassers who made the mess, and they'll just have to clean it up. I'll help, too, because I'm such a nice bloke." He sprung from the bed, and dragged Harry and Draco over to Ron. "Now, let's not get butterbeer on that nice shirt." He started undressing Draco, who didn't object. Once Draco was naked, he looked to Harry, and noticed the dark, slightly damp spot near the waistband. "My, my, Mr. Potter. I don't believe the butterbeer splashed THAT far. In fact, those aren't your customary Y-fronts, at all." He turned to Ron. "Mr. Weasley, I do believe Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy have been up to some rather randy shenanigans!

Ron stroked his chin. "You could be right, old boy. Mr. Malfoy's penchant for silk boxers is well known, while Mr. Potter has always preferred more traditional knickers. That would be two offences, would it not, Mr. Finch-Fletchley?"

"It would, indeed, Mr. Weasley. It would, indeed. I will insist upon restitution, straightaway." He yanked the boxers to the floor. "To work, gentlemen."

Harry and Draco smiled at each other, and then dove onto the bed. They started licking the butterbeer off Ron's skin. Ron's cock began to stir. The head decided to peer out from beneath his foreskin, to see what was going on. Justin moved in, to kiss Ron, as Harry and Draco bathed him. The care being paid to Ron's body managed to capture the attention of the aforementioned penis, which decided to stand up and socialize.

"That came up fast, Ron!" Harry noted.

"Justin was holding out on me, until after I'd finished my homework. Bloody taskmaster, I say!"

Justin gave Ron's earlobe a quick, but sharp nip. Ron yelped. "I'll thank you to remember that this taskmaster has two sexy boys about to suck your John Thomas. Still care to complain?"

"I'll hold my tongue. Better yet, you hold it!" Ron swiped his tongue across Justin's lips. They parted, and Justin sucked Ron inside.

Meanwhile, in parts south, Harry and Draco had started licking Ron's shaft in tandem. As they reached the top, they took a second to tongue-wrestle. Ron's bollocks contracted and loosened, as his cock begged for stimulation. Ron didn't notice when Draco whispered something into Harry's ear. He did notice, however, when Harry swallowed his twig, and Draco began licking his berries.

Draco laid a finger upon Ron's nearly hairless bollocks, and slicked it with saliva. He then let it roam, and tweak an especially sensitive part of Ron's bum. Draco poked a finger inside Ron, who almost bit Justin's tongue. Draco stroked Ron's prostate, as Harry went to town.

This was a new feeling for Ron. He'd been shagged before, and knew what it felt like to have his insides poked at, but Draco's finger was doing a much better job. Justin hadn't thought to try that, and Ron was overwhelmed. His eyes rolled up in his head, as he shot several jets into Harry's bouncing mouth. Draco increased his pace as Ron came, extending the orgasm.

When Ron's hips collapsed onto the bed, his now-softening cock plopped out of Harry's mouth. Without a word, Harry yanked Draco by the arm, and pulled the group into a four-way kiss, during which he shared Ron's sweet-and-salty nectar.

"Who's next?" asked Draco. His cock was stiff and seeping, throbbing, as if to say, "Pick me! Pick me!"

Justin ran his hands down Draco's smooth chest, and down to his slender hips. He tweaked the tip of Draco's cock, with the tip of his nose. "Now, haven't I seen you somewhere before?"

Draco's release was nearly as voluminous as the one he'd just had up in the tower, with Harry. Justin, who had been working Draco at the critical moment, catered the next mutual kiss.

"Care to go next, Harry?" Justin asked.

"Oh, no," Draco insisted. "You first. Harry's is much sweeter. We'll save him for afters." Draco worked his digital magick on Justin, as Ron and Harry shared his prick. Justin, who had been abstinent as long as Ron, knew this climax would be a good one. He strained to hold back, but Draco's finger was making a valid point. "I'm coming," he gasped.

Ron accepted Justin's contribution, and brought it to the group. Harry's cock, now, rock-hard, was dripping with anticipation. Ron and Justin nipped and sucked at it, while Draco was busy plunging his tongue into his lover's arse.

He started massaging Harry's prostate with two fingers. Harry's cock stiffened in appreciation. Justin and Ron were sucking Harry's nipples, as he let out what Draco recognized as a familiar grunt. He dove on Harry's cock, just in time. "Mmmm," he moaned, as he took in everything Harry had to offer. For half a second, he wanted to keep it all for himself, but realized there was plenty more where that came from. He joined the others, for yet another four-way kiss.

They fell asleep, four dear friends, a cuddling mass of arms and legs. All four slept peacefully, their dreams untouched by thoughts of notes, or owls.

In the morning, Harry and Ron stole back to the Gryffindor dormitories, courtesy of Harry's Cloak. Justin was covered by the fact that one Hufflepuff would never squeal on another. Draco needed nothing more than his imperious nature. He wasn't about to explain himself to anyone.

Once bathed, and dressed, the foursome made its way to the Great Hall for breakfast. The tables overflowed with delicious fruits and cakes, eggs cooked in various styles, bacon, and sausages. Everything anyone could want in an English breakfast. Except beans on toast. Beans on toast was strictly a Muggle dish. The four boys picked at their plates, on edge, waiting for an owl.

Dozens came. It seemed like every other student received a letter, or a package. Eight eyes searched the flock, but none had a delivery for Harry or Draco. They looked at each other, and shrugged. The owls finished their errands, and swooped, en masse, from the Hall. Only then, did a large shadow pass before Harry's eyes. He looked up, and beheld the largest owl he'd ever seen. It was black, like a raven, and its eyes were icy blue. In its talons, it held a small parcel, wrapped in brown paper.

The owl dropped the parcel, into Harry's waiting hands. As a Gryffindor, Ron was permitted to show curiosity, which was a good thing, considering he would have had a difficult time hiding it. Even Justin, a Hufflepuff, was able to react, as many students were curious about huge bird, and its delivery. Draco, however, had to feign indifference.

Harry wanted to wait, and open the parcel in private, but curiosity got the better of him, especially, since Hermione had gone off to her first class, and he wouldn't have to be rude to her. He cautiously unwrapped the brown paper. Inside, he found a familiar-looking key.

"It looks like the one that opens my vault at Gringott's," Harry whispered to Ron.

"Looks like you've got two vaults, now, Harry. Fancy a trip to Diagon Alley?"

"Evidently, I do." He tucked the key into his pocket. "You go tell Justin, discreetly. I'll find some way to tell Draco."

Other Gryffindors were curious about Harry's parcel. He had few answers to give, so the matter eventually was dropped. It was during Potions class that Harry finally had the opportunity to speak to Draco.

Professor Snape was just entering the classroom. He turned, to close the door. Once his face was turned away, Harry and Draco touched the magickal floorboard at the head of the classroom. The secret hiding place opened, with a loud, wooden crack. Other than Harry and Draco, all motion in the classroom ceased.

"This is quite the handy trick, Harry. What was in the parcel?"

"A key. It seems we're going to Gringott's this afternoon."

"Don't you have Quidditch after school?"

"Damn. You're right."

"We've got all day. We'll figure out a way for you to skive off. You're against Ravenclaw, right? Maybe Justin can take your place. I've got plenty of Polyjuice Potion stored in that alcove off the Room of Requirement."

"That could work. We'll ask him, at lunch. Meanwhile, we'd better reanimate this lot."

"Half a minute, Harry." Draco scampered over to Snape, and started fumbling underneath his robes.

"What the hell are you doing, Draco? Wanking Snape?"

"Good Merlin, no! That's revolting. Just a prank." With that, Snape's trousers slipped to his ankles. Draco rejoined Harry. "Ready?"

"Ready."

They closed the floorboard. Time, in the classroom, resumed its course. Snape turned. His legs, hampered by the trousers, betrayed him. He fell, flat on his face. Several students snickered, trying desperately not to laugh out loud. Draco was wiping tears from his eyes, as he choked back a bellylaugh.

Snape stood, glowering at the class. Turning his back to them, he pulled up his trousers, but realized all his buttons had been ripped off. Without looking back, he shouted, "Class dismissed!" as he stormed away.

The class was too stunned to move. Finally, Draco led the exodus, with Crabbe and Goyle, in tow. He passed Harry, and subtly showed him a handful of black buttons. With a sly smile, he slipped them into his pocket. "Meet you there," he mouthed, silently.

"That was strange," noted Hermione.

"Yes," Harry agreed.

"So, we've free time. What shall we do?"

"Um—er—Well, Ron and I have an errand to run."

"Oh," she replied, "Off to Gringott's?"

"Y— How did you know that?"

"A lot of people saw that key you received this morning. May I come with you?"

"Well, Ron and I should go alone."

"Why, Harry? Going to meet Malfoy?"

"Wha—?"Harry's throat closed up.

Hermione smirked her most self-satisfied smirk. The one Ron found most annoying. "I'm not stupid, Harry. I know you and Draco are together. I've known since the night you found the scroll. I was outside Potions. I thought I'd come up and offer to help you clean the floor, but I heard you arguing about kissing Malfoy. When Snape came, I ran."

Harry's emerald eyes were wide open, and his mouth was hanging open.

"Breathe, Harry," she continued. The next few weeks were fairly strange. My time-turner wouldn't work. I took it for repair, but the smith said there was nothing wrong with it. It worked fine in his shop, but not at Hogwarts. I deduced there was some charm surrounding the entire grounds! Well, I can be quite curious—perhaps you've noticed—so, I tried using the time-turner every morning. Once it started working again, I knew whatever charm it was had been broken. I was free to investigate. I went back to the night you read the scroll, and was standing right behind you. Breathe, Harry. After you kissed Draco, I excused myself."

"A-All this time. You never said—"

"I was waiting for you to tell me, but I realized you needed a push. I'm on your side, Harry. You've done the impossible. You melted Malfoy's icy heart. That's a big deal! I'll admit, I don't quite understand the boy-boy thing, but I AM happy for you. Truly." She wrapped her arms around Harry, and gave him a sincere hug.

Harry was grateful that Hermione was not going to give him a hard time. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you before. I didn't know how you'd react, and Draco—"

"—has a reputation to maintain. I understand." She looked Harry directly in the eye. "Harry. I'm your friend. I always have been, and always will be. I'm thrilled that you've found some happiness. You deserve it. Your life has been filled with so much pain, none of which you asked for. Whatever you need, just ask. What can I do?"

"Accept my apology, for a start. I should have known I could trust you." Harry felt badly.

"Nonsense," she admonished him. "It was a `boy's-club' thing, wasn't it? I'm not disappointed in you. I just want to help, and I got tired of waiting for you to ask. Now that you know I know, you can stop tap-dancing around me, and put me to work. Have you planned a way to get out of Quidditch yet?"

"Well," Harry whispered, "Draco has some Polyjuice Potion. We plan to ask Justin to take my place this afternoon."

"That won't do. He should go with Ron and you." Before Harry could gasp, she added, "I told you. I know it all. I'm just glad the charm left me out of it. I'm still a virgin, Harry, and damned proud of it. With all the sperm that's been flying around here lately, I'm just glad I'm not pregnant!"

Harry blushed, and smiled an awkward smile. He had no clue how to respond to Hermione's bluntness. She was perceptive enough to realize this. "Get me the potion. I'll be you."

"But, you don't play Quidditch. What—?"

"Easy. You know how strict Madam Hooch is about academics. I'll tell her you have an assignment. She'll dismiss you, and I'll go back to the common room, and wait for the potion to wear off. When you come back, you'll just have to avoid the pitch."

Harry thought about it. "It could work." He smiled. "Hermione, you're the best!"

"Of course," she smirked with an offhand shrug. "I will expect a full report upon your return, however."

"Of course."

"And I suggest you bring a few other people into the loop. Dumbledore. Hagrid. People you are certain you can trust, and who won't judge you."

"Well, I'll have to speak to Draco about that. We're moving at his pace, in this."

"Of course you would. It's the considerate thing to do. Speaking of Malf—well, I suppose I'd better get used to calling him `Draco,' now, shouldn't I? Has Draco asked his father about any of this?"

"No. He hasn't been to Azkaban since his father was taken there."

"Okay. What about Trelawney? It was her prediction that started this whole thing."

"Well, while it was happening, we didn't want to tell anyone. Since then, we've been so happy, we didn't even think about her. I suppose she might have some answers. Maybe we'll speak to her after we get back from Gringott's."

"That's settled, then. Meet me with the potion after last class."

"The common room?"

"See you then!" She spun around, and skipped off.

CHAPTER 2: How Ya Gonna Keep 'em Down on the Farm...?

Harry met Draco behind Hagrid's house after lunch. When he told Draco that Hermione knew everything, Draco was stunned. Harry assured him that she could be trusted. Harry related the details of his conversation with Hermione, and of her plan to allow the four boys to go off to Diagon Alley.

"Come on, Draco. Hermione's a good person. You're going to have to get past the bigotry your father instilled in you. I know that must be difficult. It was a part of you for so long. Granted, you haven't used the word mudblood' since we fell in love, and that's a great start, but you're accustomed to feeling a certain way. I understand that it will take time. But it will also take conscious effort on your part." He put his arms around Draco. "After all, Malfoy,' you're a poof now! What right have you to be prejudiced about anyone else?"

"Fuck you, `Potter.' I love you." He kissed Harry, and squeezed him tightly. "I'll try."

"Good. Now, we'd better get to class. We'll meet in the Room of Requirement after last class. Don't forget your broom."

They parted. The rest of the day seemed to drag on for all five co-conspirators. Finally, though, last class was dismissed, and the plan was in motion. Harry took the Polyjuice Potion to Hermione, along with a set of his clothes. No one else was in the common room at the time. She made Harry turn his back, as she changed into his clothes. She choked down the foul-tasting brew, and soon, Harry was staring at his twin. "How do I look?" she asked.

"You look fine. Your voice, however—"

"I've thought of that." She rummaged through her own clothes, retrieving something from the pocket of her robes. She handed Harry what appeared to be a stick of gum. "Here. Chew this."

Harry took the gum, and placed it into his mouth. He chewed it. It tasted minty. "Now," she said, "Say your name."

"Harry Potter."

"Good." She held out her open hand. "Now, give it here." He took the gum from his mouth, and placed it in her hand. He was surprised when she popped it into her mouth. He was even more surprised when she spoke. "Hello. I'm Harry Potter," she said, in HIS voice!

"That's amazing!" he exclaimed.

"The Weasley twins aren't the only ones who are knowledgeable about novelty items, Harry. I have a cousin in Liverpool who makes those two look like a pair of choirboys."

"You ARE full of surprises today."

"A bottomless well, Harry. Now, you'd better go, before we have to explain two Harry Potters. I'll be here when you get back."

"The others should be here soon. Ron brought my Cloak to Draco and Justin. He's sneaking them up here, as we speak. What are you going to do while I'm gone?"

Hermione flashed Harry a wicked smile. She patted the front of her trousers, and said, "Well, I've never played with one of these before. Maybe I'll experiment!"

"Don't you dare!" Harry was shocked. "You let my—you let it alone! I don't even want you peeking!"

"What if I have to use the loo?" she teased.

"You can just hold it!" Harry insisted.

"Exactly!" she giggled. "I'll hold it!"

"Don't you dare!" Harry repeated. Before he could object further, Ron entered the room. "We're here," said Ron. Draco and Justin appeared, as the Cloak was opened.

"Hi, Harry," Draco smiled, as he moved to embrace his lover.

"How do you know I'm not Hermione?" Harry asked, as Draco kissed his cheek.

"Your voice, of course. Polyjuice Potion doesn't—"

"Hello, Draco," said the other Harry Potter. Draco jumped back out of Harry's arms. "Harry?" He looked from one to the other.

"Relax. You kissed the right one," said Hermione. "I just happen to have a few tricks of my own. Now, go, boys. You've got to get to Gringott's before they close for the day."

Harry and Ron grabbed their brooms, and each boy rode tandem with his lover. They made good time to Diagon Alley, and were soon standing outside one of the musty vaults in the cellars of the bank. The goblin attendant took the key from Harry, and opened the door. He excused himself, and the boys went in.

A single candle lighted the vault. It was sitting on a table, next to a piece of parchment. Harry picked up the yellowed sheet. It was blank. "Draco," he urged, "I think this is for both of us." Draco touched the parchment, and sure enough, a handwritten letter appeared. It read:

"Dearest Harry, Dearest Draco,

By now, you must feel like your lives are being drowned in a sea of riddles. I apologize for that. It has been necessary. There is a great evil on the horizon. Sometime before you leave Hogwarts, you will have to face that evil, together.

It was I who charged your fathers to cement your Destinies. I hope the love you now enjoy will give you the courage to overcome the trials that await you.

For now, though, I must charge you with a task. The two of you must go to Paris. Agents of your Enemy have abducted a young wizard whose Destiny is intertwined with yours. You will find him imprisoned beneath the Circle of Twelve.

Go as soon as you can. The reading of this scroll has reactivated the charm of obliviousness upon the school. As you may have guessed, that was also my handiwork. The charm will affect all who are unaware of the love you share. Should you need further allies, a confession of your feelings will break the spell for them.

Stay alert. I've done all I can to protect you, but your Enemy has access to many Dark powers. I suggest you hide outside the Wizarding world. Your Enemy is not yet ready to reveal themself to those you call Muggles. You may find additional safety there.

Hurry, I pray you." The note was signed with a drawing of an owl, one that looked quite like the one that delivered to Harry the key.

"Paris?" Harry mused. "I've never been to Paris."

"I have," Draco said, "But not since I was small. I'm not concerned about that. I'm more curious about who wrote this. I don't recognize the handwriting."

"Nor do I." Justin and Ron leaned into have a look. The shook their heads. "Dumbledore, maybe?"

"No," Draco replied. "I know his had. That's not it."

"So, then. Do we trust it?" Harry asked.

"I should think so, Harry," Draco replied. "Whoever's orchestrated this whole thing is responsible for us falling in love. They're on our side. We should go."

"Draco's right, Harry," said Justin. "Ron, Hermione, and I will hold down the fort until you get back. You should leave straightaway. You have your wands. You can buy anything else you'll need here in Diagon Alley. Don't forget to take some euros with you. They can change some Galleons upstairs."

Harry had had the forethought to bring along the key to his other vault. He and Draco stuffed their pockets with golden Galleons, and exchanged most of them for euros. The paper currency was much less burdensome. Draco counted the wad. "We've got about twenty-two thousand euros, here, Harry. That should be more than enough." He stuffed half the notes into his own pocket, and gave the other half to Harry.

After a whirlwind shopping trip, they were ready. The sun was setting, as Ron and Justin bid them farewell. Ron hugged Harry tightly. "Be careful, Harry."

Justin followed suit with Draco. "You, too." He kissed Draco on the cheek. Harry moved Draco to the others, and they shared a four-way embrace.

Ron and Justin took off on Ron's broom, as Harry and Draco waved goodbye.

"We should go. It's a long way to France," Draco said. They divided their gear into the two backpacks they had purchased. Draco shook his head, as he handed Harry a package of white Y-fronts. "Remind me to get you some silk knickers for your next birthday!" he smiled.

Harry smiled back, as he unwrapped the new broom he'd bought for Draco. They slung the backpacks over their shoulder, and were soon airborne.

They flew into the night. Paris was easy to spot from the sky. Even this late at night, much of the city was brightly lit. They landed in a small park, near some cafés.

"I'm knackered," Harry admitted.

"So am I," Draco admitted. "Let's get an hotel room. Tomorrow, we'll have clear heads, and perhaps we can figure out what The Circle of Twelve is."

They walked through the streets of Paris, carrying their brooms, like a couple of chimney sweeps who were on their way home from work. The first hotel they came to seemed a bit seedy, so they passed it by, eventually arriving at a more reputable-looking establishment. "It looks rather expensive, Draco," Harry worried.

"Harry, you can afford it. It appears I'm going to have teach you about luxurious living, as well as luxurious undergarments. Come along."

Draco's rudimentary French managed to get them checked into the hotel. The clerk gave them a strange look, as he offered to have a porter carry their brooms to the room. The boys declined, uncomfortably, and made their way to the lift. Once alone, they began to laugh.

"Did you see the look on his face?" Draco chuckled. "He must think we're a couple of loonies!" The lift doors opened on the top floor of the hotel. They laughed all the way down the hall.

The room was beautifully appointed with modern furniture. French doors led to a balcony that overlooked the city. An overstuffed down duvet covered the large bed. "That looks inviting," Harry said.

"It does," Draco agreed, "But I want a bath first. I swear that flight left me with bugs in my teeth."

They explored the bathroom. The tub looked big enough for two. "See? Luxury. In cheaper hotels, we'd have to share a bathroom with the entire floor." Draco started filling the tub. "I want you all to myself, tonight."

They undressed, and slipped into the hot water. It felt wonderful. They bathed each other tenderly. They occasionally took the time to plant gentle kisses on each other's body. They were both aroused. They began to make love in the tub, but it was a bit awkward. The tub, while spacious, was nowhere near as big as their favorite cauldron in the Gryffindor bathroom.

"Let's move to the bed," Draco suggested. They took turns, drying each other off, and then held hands, as they padded, naked, to the bed. They climbed on top of the fluffy bedding, and embraced. "I love you, Harry."

"I love you, too, Draco."

They kissed. Their tongues caressed each other, as their hands explored each other's body. Draco broke the kiss, and began moving downward. He kissed Harry's neck, and shoulder. His tongue traced a trail to Harry's nipple, and circled it, like a car traveling a roundabout.

Harry's manhood throbbed in anticipation. A trickle of moisture oozed down his shaft. Draco was also leaking, profusely, but he was in no hurry. He moved to Harry's other nipple, and used his tongue to compel it to harden. Harry moaned with pleasure.

"I adore the taste of you, Harry. Promise me we'll be together forever."

Harry stroked Draco's cheek. "I promise." Draco's tongue teased Harry's navel, causing him to giggle. "That tickles!"

Draco smiled, but said nothing, as he moved lower. He took Harry into his mouth. He poured all his feelings for Harry into his task. He gently licked and sucked at Harry's prick, desperately resisting the urge to attack it like a starving animal.

Harry reached down, took Draco's face in his hands, and pulled him back up, into another kiss. They held each other tightly, as if willing their bodies to become one. Their erections slid against each other, made slick by Draco's saliva, and their own natural moisture. Draco took both erections in one hand, and stroked them slowly together, as he kissed the young man he loved.

They moaned, as they kissed. Harry, finally, broke the kiss, to catch his breath. "Oh, Draco. You are wonderful. I love you so much." He urged Draco's hand aside, and he took his turn at stroking them both. Harry nuzzled Draco's neck, letting his dark bangs brush across Draco's exposed ear. That motion sent a shiver of pleasure through Draco, which Harry was able to detect. "I didn't realize your ears were so sensitive, Draco," Harry whispered into the ear in question. He traced the curve of Draco's ear with the tip of his tongue, and nipped at Draco's earlobe. Draco gasped.

"Oh, Harry! HARRY!" Draco's cock exploded, soaking both their bellies, as well as Harry's hand. Harry used the added lubrication, as he began pumping his hand faster and faster. He thrust his tongue into Draco's ear. Draco's eyes rolled up, as his climax intensified. Harry kept pumping. Draco's hips began to twitch. Harry was relentless. Up and down. Up and down. The muscles in his arm were beginning to burn. His own orgasm came quickly. With the first spurt, his head snapped back. Draco took the opportunity to suck on Harry's neck. Coincidentally, Harry's neck was just as sensitive as his own ear.

"Draco! Ohhh!" he moaned, as jet after silvery jet drenched them both. Draco pushed Harry's tiring hand out of the way, and took up the rapid stroking. He continued until Harry could take no more. They both panted as they kissed. Draco swiped his wet and sticky hand across Harry's belly, gathering some of the evidence of their love. He brought his hand up to their kiss, and they both licked it clean. Draco then swiped his own chest and belly, so they could enjoy a second taste.

Finally, they rolled apart, and stayed there, silently, as they waited to recover their breath, and minds. Draco spoke first.

"We taste so good together, Harry. Salty and sweet. That WAS a good one. That tongue in the ear thing—"

"Mmm," Harry agreed. "That was a button for you, wasn't it?"

"I'll say. No one ever did that to me before, Harry. It was fucking brilliant! Who says you can't teach an old tart new tricks?"

"Actually, it was just a happy accident. I think, though, that I SHALL file it away, for future reference."

"Oh, you do that! And, I'll remember that your neck is a hot spot, as well."

"You're a right vampire, you are! I expect you left quite a mark." He turned his head, and Draco could see that, indeed, his passion had left a good-sized hickey on Harry's throat.

"I'm afraid you're quite branded now, Harry. These randy Parisian boys will just have to stew in their jealousy."

"Really? And, since we ARE in Paris, I would have thought you'd be eager to enjoy one of the local customs—a ménage-à-trois!"

"Hmmm...," Draco pondered. "That just might be a treat, after all. But, not tonight, Harry. Tonight, you are all mine."

"I don't care if there were a hundred boys in this bed, Draco. I'm always all yours." They held each other, and kissed, until they fell asleep, in each other's arms.

They were still tangled in an embrace, when they awoke. The sun streamed through the windows, warming them. They were in no rush to leave the comfort they felt. A knock on the door interrupted their reverie.

"Petits déjeuners, messieurs?"

"What—?" Harry asked.

"He's asking if we want breakfast," Draco translated. And then, to the door, he replied, "Oui, garçon! Un moment!" Draco sprang from the bed, and scampered to the door, his flaccid penis flopping against his thighs, as he ran.

"Aren't you going to put something on before you open the door?" Harry wondered.

Draco, his hand on the doorknob, turned an impish grin to Harry. "No," was all he said. He opened the door, and the young waiter lost his ability to speak. "Venez! Venez-vous!" Draco urged, as he waved the waiter in. The dumbstruck, young man rolled the breakfast cart into the room. He tried to avoid looking at Draco's beautiful, young body. He failed. He saw the shiny film on Draco's chest, and knew exactly what it was, and what it meant. He looked to Harry, who was sitting up in bed, the covers pulled up to his hips. The waiter licked his lips, and struggled to find words. Harry watched the proceedings with interest.

Finally, the waiter managed to croak out a single word. "Où?"

"Au lit," Draco responded, indicating he wanted them to be served in bed. Draco noticed that the front of the waiter's trousers was beginning to bulge, as he pushed the cart toward Harry. Draco gave Harry a sly wink. Harry's erection told his head to nod an assent, and it did.

"Parlez-vous anglais?" Draco asked.

"A-A leetle bit," the young man replied.

Draco changed to the familiar form. "Comment tu t'appelle?"

"Je m'appelle Bastian, monsieur."

"Well, Bastian. I'm Draco, and this is Harry. We would like it very much if you would join us for breakfast. Est-ce que c'est possible?" Draco could see that the waiter's prick was trying to answer for him. His own prick was now half-erect. The poor waiter was mesmerized. He could not take his eyes from Draco's rising invitation.

"I would like that very much, Draco. I bring the food for you, and my work is finishing today. I will say to the chef, `goodbye,' and I come here encore."

Yes, Bastian. You definitely will COME here!" Draco smiled. Harry giggled at the double-entendre.

Bastian pushed at the bulge in his trousers. "He must go down. The chef not to see him. The chef want him... beaucoup."

Draco admired the olive-skinned Frenchman. The curls that framed his face were of the darkest brown. His face deserved to be immortalized in marble. He easily understood how the boy's boss would be attracted to him. "Je comprends. Allez! Go!" He pushed the waiter out the door. "Hurry! Vite! Venez au bain!" Draco closed the door, but left it unlocked. He turned back toward Harry. He could see that the part of the duvet covering Harry's crotch was pulsing.

Harry shook his head. "Draco! You are incorrigible!"

Draco pointed at the bouncing bedding. "You're one to talk! Look at him! He's ready for a go, as well!" Draco ran to the bed, and snatched the cover away. Harry's erection was exposed.

Harry shrugged. "I've never had sex with a Frenchman before, let alone a Muggle. I suppose I`m intrigued." He looked down at his throbbing member. "And, so is he."

"Well, so are we," Draco said. "I've never done a Muggle, either. I've had a French wizard, though. After last year's Triwizard. His name was Jean-Yves. He was a tremendous kisser."

"Well, we should wash up, before Bastian comes back." He rose from the bed.

"Let's give him a right seduction, Harry. I want him to remember us for the rest of his life. I told Bastian to meet us in the bathroom." They moved to the bathroom, then drew a hot bath. They scrubbed their chests and bodies, and then washed each other's back. As they dried themselves, Bastian appeared in the doorway.

"Salut! Hello!" he said, shyly.

"Venez, Bastian. Come in," Draco invited. He and Harry each took one of Bastian's arms, and led him into the steamy room. They each kissed him on a cheek, and brought him into a three-way kiss. A trio of erections began to grow. Harry and Draco broke the kiss. They slowly undressed Bastian. As they removed his shirt, they saw a few sparse hairs had sprouted around his chocolate-brown nipples. He had a swimmer's chest, and a trail of dark, curly hairs that led from his navel down into the waistband of his trousers.

Harry and Draco ran their hands over Bastian's beautiful body. Bastian tipped back his head, and closed his eyes. Draco reached down, and undid the trousers' buttons. Harry slid the trousers down, revealing Bastian's powder-blue pouch. His bum was exposed. Harry and Draco each cupped one cheek, as they used their teeth to remove Bastian's underwear.

Bastian stepped out of them. They led him to the tub, and in. Four hands explored Bastian's body, as two mouths nibbled at his neck and ears. He moaned with contentment. They bathed him tenderly. His prick was rock-hard. The swollen head pushed its way out from inside Bastian's foreskin. It throbbed, demanding attention.

Bastian curled his arms around the necks of the Englishmen who were making love to his upper body. He ran his hands through their hair, enjoying the silkiness he felt. He turned his face, and kissed each of them in turn.

"Oh, 'arry! Oh, Draco!" he purred. "You are very good with love."

They smiled. "Allons-y au lit," Draco suggested. He urged Bastian to stand.Bastian stepped out of the tub, and his seducers dried him. They put their arms around him, and walked him to the bed. They laid him down gently, and began to cover his body with kisses. They started just below his ears, moved down his neck, and to his chest. They tweaked his nipples with their tongues. Moisture began to seep from Bastian's throbbing member. Harry and Draco noticed this. "Petit déjeuner, Harry?" Draco asked.

"Oui, monsieur," Harry replied. They moved down, and nestled their cheeks in Bastian's dark curls. They lapped at his bollocks, causing another stream of clear moisture to flow from the top of his cock. It twitched rapidly, begging to be touched. Only then, did they accommodate him.

The dragged their tongues, ever so slowly, up Bastian's shaft. Bastian gasped, and shivered from the thrill of it. The young wizards knew they were on the right track. They moved their tongues up and down the Frenchman's length. He moaned with each upward stroke. His cock swelled, bigger and harder. Harry and Draco knew that their efforts would soon be rewarded.

Bastian strained not to release. "C'est fantastique!" he panted. "C'est—oh! Ohhh!" He could hold back no longer. Draco moved to the head, as Harry's tongue juggled his bollocks. Bastian filled Draco's mouth with saltiness. Draco sucked every drop from him, swallowing not a one. Once he was satisfied that Bastian's climax had passed, he pulled Harry up. The three shared the contents of Draco's cheek, as they embraced.

"That is... very... good," Bastian whispered between pants.

"I liked it," Draco admitted.

"So did I," said Harry.

"I will make the love with you, now?" Bastian asked.

"Oui," said Draco. "Bien sûr! Of course!"

"D'accord," Bastian said. He stacked the pillows, under his head, then pulled Harry and Draco alongside. He grabbed their stiff pricks, and held them so that they touched tips. Both Harry and Draco were oozing, and Bastian rubbed the tips together, slowly, in front of his face. He held the two erections in place, as he dragged his tongue back and forth, from one to the other.

Harry and Draco kissed, as Bastian took turns sucking on their cocks. He turned their bodies slightly, attempting to take both cocks into his mouth, at the same time. He wanked both young men, eager to taste their release.

"I'm holding back, Harry. Are you close?"

Harry nodded. "Very soon!"

Draco fought to hold back. He hoped he could last. He did, but just barely. The first spurt entered Bastian's mouth, just as Harry hit the point of no return. Draco was still shooting, as Harry erupted. Bastian had managed to keep both heads in his mouth, and swallowed every drop he was given. He continued wanking, and sucking, until both Harry and Draco collapsed onto the bed.

"Très bien, mon ami," Draco complimented Bastian.

Bastian smiled. "Merci, Draco. You like me, too, `arry?"

"Oh, yes," Harry nodded. "Oui."

"We are good service at the hotel!" he boasted. They all laughed.

"Yes," Harry said. "Very good service. But, we can't stay in bed all day. Draco, we have to find The Circle of Twelve."

Draco turned to Bastian. "Do you know The Circle of Twelve? Le... Cirque? Du Douze?"

"Non, je n'y connaît pas. I'm... sorry. But, I will show Paris to you. Peut-être we find it."

"D'accord."

"But, Draco—"

"No worries, Harry. We could use some help. For now. Let's accept the tour. Maybe we'll get lucky."

Bastian smiled. "We find your Circle, and we come to hotel encore, and we all get lucky!"

CHAPTER 3: The Circle of Twelve

Bastian showed Harry and Draco the sights of Paris. He took them along the Seine, which bisected the city. They toured Notre Dame, which sat upon a small island in the middle of the river. Draco noted that one of the cathedral's gargoyles looked an awful lot like Snape.

They stopped for lunch at an outdoor café. Bastian had a beer, while Harry and Draco tried something called `pac à l'eau,' a mixture of sweet, lemon syrup and water. It wasn't butterbeer, certainly, but it was tasty and refreshing, nonetheless.

After lunch, they went to the Eiffel Tower. Harry paid for the trio's admission, and they rode the lift to the topmost level. As they stepped to the rail, Bastian outstretched his arms. "Here is all of Paris! Look! There is La Musée Louvre, et la-bas, L'Arc de Triomphe!"

Draco and Harry admired the breathtaking view that surrounded them. Paris was a beautiful place. Bastian let them enjoy the vista, and then pulled them into a conspiratorial huddle. "I will tell to you," he whispered, "this is my place favorite to—to—" He couldn't find the word, so he made a pumping motion with his hand.

Harry was taken aback. "You wank up here? In public?"

"Yes," Bastian beamed. "I wank! I show you!" He positioned Harry and Draco, so that they would block him from the view of the other tourists, as well as the people who worked at the Tower. He unbuttoned his trousers, and began pulling on himself. Harry and Draco kept him shielded, but occasionally turned to take a peek. Draco watched Bastian pleasure himself, and felt a stirring in his own trousers.

A few moments later, Bastian grunted, as he shot a small load over the edge. It fell, and splattered against one of the Tower's steel beams. Bastian shook a few last drops from his softening cock, and then tucked it back into his trousers. He looked over the edge, urging the others to do the same.

"Look! You see?" He pointed down at the evidence. They spotted it right away. He jostled Harry, so, now, they were hiding Draco from the crowd. "Now, you, Draco! Make a souvenir for Paris!"

Draco could hardly wait to comply. He found the thought of wanking in public made him extremely hot. He fumbled his erect member out of its bindings, and copied Bastian's deed. His release landed on the same beam as Bastian's, but fell short of Bastian's mark by about six centimeters. He put himself away, and turned to Harry, as he licked a stray bit of nectar from his hand. "You're up, Harry!"

"I-I don't know, Draco." He was nervous about cooperating with what his erection was telling him to do.

"Go on, Harry. Rub off a quick one. We've left you two targets!"

"Yes, Harry. It is good. You will feel freedom! We hide you good."

Harry bit his lower lip, and pondered his options. He soon caved. The trio repositioned themselves. Harry looked around, one last time, before opening his trousers. He felt a cool breeze brush against his hot stiffness. It was a good feeling. He gave his erection a squeeze, and submitted to its lustful desires.

At length, he, too, released several spurts to fall upon the steel. It landed nowhere near the previous spatters, but Harry didn't mind. His eyes grabbed the rail, and his eyes bugged out, as a realization hit him. "Draco! Look!" he shouted, as he pointed.

Draco, who had been watching Harry wank, looked in the direction to which Harry was pointing. "What, Harry? It's the Arc de Triomphe. We walked past it, after we left the hotel. So what?"

"Not the Arc, Draco. Around it. The roundabout!" Harry was getting quite excited.

"What about it? It notorious for being one of the most dangerous roundabouts in the world. Look at all the boulevards that empty into it. Those Muggles are driving like madmen. You can't even cross the bloody thing to get to the Arc. There's an underground corridor that leads to it."

"Yes, Draco. The boulevards! Can it be—? Bastian? How many?"

Draco's head bobbed slightly, as he tried to count the busy streets. "I can't see them all from here, Harry, I—"

"Twelve, mes chers, There are twelve," Bastian offered.

"That must be it, Draco!" Harry rejoiced.

"You find your Circle! Merveilleux!" Bastian rejoiced. "We go!"

Harry put his hand on Bastian's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Bastian. Draco and I must go alone."

Bastian was disappointed. He wanted to continue on this adventure with his two new friends. He relented. "D'accord. You go. I go chez moi for to sleep. Tonight, I see you at hotel, yes?"

"Yes, Bastian. We'll see you there," he smiled. Bastian kissed him on both cheeks, in the French fashion, and then, again, on the first cheek.

"Three, because you are more than a friend. Et toi, Draco." He kissed Draco three times, as well. "À bientôt, mes chers!" Harry and Draco turned to leave. "'arry!"

"Yes, Bastian?"

"Maybe you put away the penis?" he pointed at Harry's crotch. In his excitement, Harry had forgotten his limp prick was still hanging out. He blushed, as he buttoned up his trousers. The trio took the lift back down, and Bastian waved to them, as they started to run toward the Arc.

"We should stop back at the hotel, and get our wands, Harry," Draco panted, as he ran. We may need them."

"No need," said Harry. He stopped running, and pulled up his trouser cuff, revealing two wands tucked into his sock. "I scooped them up, while Bastian was getting dressed. I don't think he ever saw them."

"He didn't mention the brooms, either, and they were standing up against the corner, plain as day."

"Well, you WERE distracting him with your prick at the time. I certainly know it can take MY mind off other things!" Harry grinned.

"I just love you more and more each day, Harry Potter. Let's go."

They were out of breath when they arrived at the staircase leading under the roundabout. They descended the stairs, and walked along the underground path. Sounds of the traffic above faded as they went along. They moved slowly, each dragging a hand along the wall, as they walked. They searched for anything that might be a hidden door.

Success! As they neared the staircase that would lead them back up to street level, Harry's hand passed into a section of the wall, as if it wasn't there. "Draco!"

"Brilliant, Harry! Just like Platform 9¾ at Kings Cross!"

An elderly woman was approaching them from the nearby staircase. Harry pulled his hand out, and they waited for her to pass. Once she was far enough away, and they were sure she wouldn't look back, Harry took Draco's hand, and they passed through the wall.

Stretched out before them was a dark, dank corridor. They could see nothing. They could hear slowly dripping water coming from somewhere ahead. Harry blindly retrieved their wands. "Lumos," he said, and the tips of the wands began emitting a bright glow. He handed Draco's wand to him.

The corridor stretched down about ten meters, then turned to the right. Harry and Draco made their way slowly to the bend. Neither was prepared for what they saw, as they made the turn.

Before them was a huge piece of amber, more than two meters tall. Trapped inside was the most beautiful young man either of them had ever seen. He appeared to be about their age. He had dark, shoulder-length hair. His eyes were open, and they could tell, despite the yellow translucence of the amber, that they were a very light blue.

"How awful," Harry fretted, as he gingerly touched the amber. He pulled his hand back. "It's cold."

"You-Know-Who is a right bastard, Harry. This is worse than being buried alive!"

"How are we going to get him out?"

"We could blast it."

"No. That might harm him. We might try chiseling it away."

"I doubt that's possible, Harry. This is obviously magickal. We'll have to find a way to break the spell."

"Well, we can't just leave him here! It's so cruel!"

"I have an idea." Draco aimed his wand at the trapped wizard boy. With one magickal word, he transformed the amber, boy and all, into a small silver key. He picked up the key, and tucked it into his pocket.

"Brilliant, Draco. We can bring him back to the hotel, and figure this all out." They walked back to entrance of the dark corridor. Harry peeked out through the wall, to see if the coast was clear. Suddenly, Harry was thrown backward. He landed at Draco's feet, unconscious.

"Harry!" Draco drew his wand, and knelt by Harry's side. A bolt of blue streaked over his head, and someone was coming through the wall. Draco took aim. A figure, in a hooded cloak, came through, brandishing a wand. Draco didn't give the attacker another chance to strike.

"Petrificus totalis!" he shouted. The mysterious attacker went rigid, and tumbled to the floor.

Draco took a second to be sure this villain wasn't going anywhere, and then he moved to Harry. "Harry! Harry! Are you all right? Wake up!" Harry did not stir. Draco checked, to see if Harry was still breathing. He was. Draco sighed with relief. He stroked Harry's hair. "Don't worry, Harry! I'll take care of you."

He tucked Harry's wand into his sock, and then used his own wand. With a similar spell to the one he'd cast upon the trapped wizard boy, he transformed Harry's unconscious form into a golden key. He also changed the petrified attacker into a brass key. He pocketed all the keys, and made his way back to the hotel.

Once safely in their room, he laid the golden key upon the bed, and restored Harry to human form. Harry was still out cold. Draco tried every spell he knew, in an effort to revive his lover. Nothing worked. He held Harry's hand, and began to sob.

"Oh, Harry! What shall I do? I've tried everything I know. I can't take you to a Muggle hospital. This was a magickal attack. Oh, Harry! Please, wake up! Please!" He collapsed onto Harry's chest, and sobbed himself to sleep.

It was late in the day, when the sensation of having his shoulder shaken roused Draco. It was Bastian.

"Bastian!" Draco exclaimed.

"Draco! 'arry will not to wake! What has happened?" He was genuinely concerned.

"There was danger at the Arc. I cannot tell you more."

"You must take him to hospital. It is very bad."

Draco began to cry. "I can't!I—"

Bastian took Draco into his arms. "Oh, mon pauvre," he consoled the weeping boy. "I do not know what trouble you have, but I want to help you. What can I do?"

"I don't know, Bastian," Draco wept. "We are alone here. I don't know what to do."

"Can you send word to a friend?"

Draco had considered that, but it would take days for an owl to reach Hogwarts and return. He knew there was a wizarding school in France, but he had no idea how to contact anyone there. He was distraught.

"I wish you tell me what has happened. Then, I could help."

That was it. Draco knew what he had to do. "Bastian. I must tell you something. You may find it hard to believe, but you must try."

"What is it, Draco?"

"Harry was not hurt by natural means. He was attacked by magick."

"Du magique?" Bastian was taken aback.

"Oui. Harry and I are... wizards."

Bastian looked into Draco's eyes, as he pondered the revelation. He noticed the wooden wand resting on the bed, near Harry. A thought occurred to him. He turned his face to the corner of the room, and looked directly at the pair of broomsticks that were resting against the wall. He looked back at Draco. "C'est vrai, n'est-ce pas?"

"Yes. It's true."

"I will protect your secret, but I do not understand. You tell me, and I believe. Mais pourquoi? Why?"

Before Draco could answer, the French doors flew open. Draco, instinctively, placed his body between Bastian and the open windows. He raised his wand, and pointed it at the opening, prepared to defend Harry and Bastian.

A prim, gray-haired witch flew into the room upon a rather ratty-looking broomstick. "Arrêtez-vous, Monsieur Malfoy! Stop!"

He didn't lower his wand. "Who are you?" Draco challenged.

The witch landed. "I am Madame du Charme, of the French Ministry of Magic."

Draco lowered his wand. Bastian was confused. "A friend?"

"Not exactly, Bastian. When I told you that Harry and I are wizards, it was as good sending for her. I broke a statute—er—loi, knowing the Ministry would be forced to come."

"Monsieur Malfoy, I must insist that you discuss these matters no further with this Mugg—er—young man!"

"Madame du Charme, we'll deal with that later. I need your help! Harry's been attacked."

The prim woman looked to the bed. A pair of raised eyebrows betrayed her normally reserved nature. She recognized the boy on the bed. "Harry Potter," she gasped.

"Yes. He was blasted by another wizard. Some sort of blue lightning. He needs help. Please, do something. I had no other way to contact the wizarding world. You must help us," Draco pleaded, tears in his eyes.

"Very well. I will summon help." She turned to the window, pulled her wand out from beneath her cloak, and fired an orange bolt into the sky. She turned back. "Et maintenant," she continued, "Now, we must deal with you, young man."

"No!" Draco insisted, poising himself between them. "You will do NOTHING to Bastian! He can be trusted!"

"We must charm him into forgetfulness, Monsieur. You know the rules."

Draco raised his wand. "I forbid it! There are many Muggles who know about the wizarding world! Bastian can join THOSE ranks. You will leave him be!"

"You are upset, Monsieur. We will discuss this, after Monsieur Potter has been attended." She turned to Bastian. "Vous devez rester ici!"

"I shall stay here," Bastian replied, in English, for Draco's benefit. "I want Harry to be well, aussi."

Suddenly, a cloud of purple smoke exploded near the French doors. When it cleared, Albus Dumbledore was standing before them. He appeared fatigued. Bastian's eyes were opened as wide as they possibly could be. His mouth hung open.

"Headmaster!" Draco had never had much admiration for Dumbledore before he fell in love with Harry, and hadn't given him much thought since, but he was infinitely relieved to see a familiar face. He was also respectful of the great effort and skill necessary to apparate from Hogwarts to Paris.

"Hello, Draco." Dumbledore moved to the bed. "How is he?"

"Unchanged," Draco said.

"Not to worry, my boy. He will recover." Dumbledore leaned down, and brushed Harry's hair aside, revealing the scar on his forehead. He laid one fingertip upon the scar, and whispered a single word into Harry's ear. Harry's eyes began to flutter open.

"P-Professor?" Harry whispered. "What happened?"

"Rest, Harry. You've been hurt. You'll sleep now, and feel much better in the morning." He laid his hand upon Harry's cheek, and Harry drifted off to sleep.

Dumbledore turned to the others. "Draco, I suppose I should be taking points from both Slytherin and Gryffindor. You boys left the school without permission."

"With all respect, sir, bugger the points! I'm just glad you came."

"Yes, well, we shall discuss that presently. We have other matters to deal with." He turned to Madame du Charme. "Véronique. A pleasure to see you again. Thank you for summoning me."

"De rien, Albus." She pronounced it `Al-boo.' "What are we to do about this one?" she asked, indicating Bastian. Bastian gulped.

"Come here, boy!" Dumbledore commanded. Bastian was afraid, but he complied, and moved to stand before the old wizard.

"Oui, monsieur?" Bastian croaked. His throat was quite dry.

Dumbledore took him by the chin. He studied the boy's face, and let his gaze bore into Bastian's soul. Bastian stood, wide-eyed in terror, unable to speak. Finally, he released Bastian's chin, caressing his cheek, as he did so. "Relax, young man. We will not harm you. You have affection for Harry and Draco?"

"Oui, monsieur! Vraiment!"

"Good. Good," Dumbledore smiled. He turned to Draco. "Draco? You will vouch for this young man?"

"Yes, Headmaster," Draco nodded.

"Very well." He faced du Charme. "Véronique, I believe we shall trust him... for now. Do you object?"

"I withhold judgment until after I understand what brought these two to Paris, in the first place. They have, after all, violated the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy of 1692."

Dumbledore turned to Draco, one eyebrow raised. "She raises a valid point, Mr. Malfoy. Why ARE you and Harry in Paris?"

"You're sure he'll be all right?" Draco stalled. He was unsure whether or not to tell them. Especially without Harry's blessing.

"Yes, I am sure," Dumbledore replied, "But that does not answer my question, now, does it?"

"N-No, sir." Draco decided to stand his ground. He was not ready to confess all without Harry by his side. "It would be best if we wait until Harry's awake. I can't discuss this without him."

Dumbledore stared at him. Draco screwed up his courage, and refused to back down. His determined stare was shaky, at best.

"Very well," Dumbledore conceded. "It has obviously been a trying day for all of us. You boys will get some sleep. You will not leave this room until morning, at which time, Madame du Charme and I shall return, and you will have some serious explaining to do."

"Monsieur-" Bastian interrupted.

"Yes?"

"I must to work ce soir, monsieur."

Dumbledore smiled. "What is your name, boy?"

"Bastian, monsieur."

"Well, Bastian. With all you have seen tonight, do you really suppose that this fact presents an insurmountable problem for me?"

Bastian shook his head. "Non, monsieur."

"Very well, then. Stay here with Draco, and Harry. We shall talk in the morning."

"Oui, monsieur."

Madame du Charme looked to Dumbledore. "They will stay put, Albus?"

"Oh, yes, Véronique. I'll see to it. The room next door just became vacant. They'll stay put."

"Bon. I shall return, promptly, at eight o'clock. See that they are dressed." She mounted he broomstick, and flew out the window.

"You heard her. I suggest you both get some rest. I'll wake you at seven." He snapped his fingers, and disappeared in another plume of purple smoke.

"This is all so amazing, Draco," Bastian said, once they were alone.

"I can imagine, Bastian," Draco assured him. "Please tell me you are not afraid."

"But, I AM afraid, Draco!" He could see the crestfallen look of hurt in Draco's eyes. He put up his hand. "Non, non! Not afraid OF you, Draco. Afraid FOR you. You have much trouble, and danger!" He took Draco in his arms. Draco collapsed into Bastian's embrace, and began to weep. Bastian kissed Draco's forehead. "We will stay. You will watch over Harry, and I will watch over you."

He led Draco to the bed, and helped him undress. He shucked off his own clothes, and then the two of them undressed Harry. Draco slipped into bed, and nuzzled into the crook of Harry's neck. Bastian climbed in behind him, and spooned him. He covered the three of them with the down-filled duvet. They lay there until sleep, finally, showed them some mercy.

It was Harry who woke first, just after six. He nudged the others. "Draco. Bastian," he said, softly.

They stirred. "Harry!" Draco beamed, as he realized that Harry was awake. "Oh, Harry!" He hugged Harry fiercely.

"Ça va, 'arry?" Bastian asked.

"I'm fine, Bastian. Just a little sore is all. What happened?"

"We were attacked, Harry," Draco offered.

"What about the b—the key?"

"Don't worry, Harry. Bastian will soon know it all anyway. Dumbledore's here."

"What?" Harry sat up.

Draco filled Harry in on everything that had happened since he was hurt. Bastian listened, silently, as Draco spoke. "So, what shall we do?" he concluded. "What shall we tell Dumbledore?"

"What, indeed?" Dumbledore was standing at the foot of the bed, his arms folded, and a stern look upon his ancient face. The boys scrambled to cover their nakedness with the duvet

"The truth, sir," said Harry. "We'll tell you everything."

Dumbledore stood there, as the trio explained the events of the last few days. Harry did most of the talking, but he became embarrassed when they got to the part when Bastian entered the story. Draco, who was much less modest, took up the tale. Bastian mostly nodded in agreement to points Draco made.

"So, you two are a couple, eh? I suspected as much. I knew something was amiss, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Well, we'll discuss that at another time. For now, where are the other two keys?"

Draco pointed at the pile of clothes on the floor. "My pocket," he said.

"Well, fetch them, my boy! And get dressed, all of you! Madame du Charme will arrive within the hour."

The boys jumped from the bed, and into their clothes. Draco fished the silver and brass keys from his pocket. He handed them to Dumbledore.

The boys sat quietly, as they waited for Madame du Charme. She was as punctual as would be expected. After Dumbledore passed along the details the boys had related, she had a few questions of her own. "I've brought along plenty of Veritaserum, gentlemen. Shall we begin?"

Dumbledore explained to Bastian that the potion would not harm him, but that he would be unable to speak any untruths, while it remained in effect. Bastian, his conscience clear, agreed to the interrogation. The Ministry representative conjured up three glasses of water, and added three drops of Veritaserum to each glass. The boys drank. "Now," she said, "Let's start at the beginning."

Harry and Draco practically tripped over each other, as the story of the magickal floorboards, the scroll, and the mission to Paris spilled from their lips. Each time the story approached sexual details, Madame du Charme interrupted them, allowing them a modicum of privacy. She steered them back to pertinent details. Bastian added a few points along the way, after they'd reached the point where he became part of the story. The boys concluded with Draco handing the keys to Dumbledore, and then fell silent.

She put out her hand, and looked at Dumbledore. "S'il vous plait, Albus?" He handed them over, and she inspected them. "Nice work, Monsieur Malfoy. You will undo it, now, if you please."

Draco nodded, and retrieved his wand. "Who is first?" he asked.

"The alleged assailant," she instructed.

Draco transformed the brass key back into the mysterious stranger. The effects of the binding spell did not wear off while the man was transformed. He was still quite petrified. Dumbledore and du Charme examined the face of this wizard. He looked to be middle-aged, his greasy, black hair was starting to turn silver around the temples. He had a mean look in his eye, and a snarl on his lips.

"I don't know him," Dumbledore admitted.

"I do," said du Charme. "His name is Auguste Pamplemousse. You will find the Dark Mark upon his arm. He is quite known to us." She turned to the boys. "Your credibility with me has just increased, dramatically, gentlemen." Then, back to Dumbledore: "Albus, this is a very dangerous man. This wizard-in-amber must be something quite special. We should see to him, immediately."

"Agreed," Dumbledore nodded. He placed the silver key upon the floor. "Draco," he urged.

Bastian was amazed, yet again, as Draco changed the silver key back into the trapped boy.

"Again, Véronique, I must disappoint you. I do not recognize this boy, although, he does seem familiar, somehow."

"Hmmm...," du Charme mused, as she wrinkled her nose. "He DOES seem familiar, Albus, but I must confess that I cannot place him, either."

Dumbledore stroked the chilled amber. "This is powerful magick, my dear. It will take some doing to free him."

"I agree," she said, examining the yellowy prison. "I suggest we begin at the Ministry's archives. I could use your help with the research." He nodded his assent. She turned to the boys. "The Veritaserum should remain in effect for at least another hour, gentlemen, so tell me the truth: Can you three be trusted to remain here until we return, after lunch?" All three agreed to remain in the hotel room. "Bon," she said, "Now one more question for you, Bastian: Will you tell anyone about what you have witnessed here?"

"Non," he shook his head. "I promise that I will keep your secrets."

Madame du Charme was satisfied. Veritaserum had never been known to fail, when administered to a wizard, let alone a Muggle.

She turned her attention to the figure of Auguste Pamplemousse. "I think we'll take this one directly into custody. I know a few Dementors who have been waiting to have a word with him." She transformed the petrified villain back into a brass key, and put it in her pocket. She made room on the back of her broomstick for Dumbledore, and soon, they were gone. Once alone with his friends, Bastian felt relaxed enough to speak freely.

"This is all so amazing!"

Harry put his hand on Bastian's shoulder. "You seem to be handling this all, so calmly. Are you certain you are all right, Bastian?"

"Oui, 'arry," he said. "I am very fond of you, and Draco. I want to help you, if I can."

"Thank you, Bastian. We care about you, too. We don't want you hurt, though. Perhaps, you should get out of this mess, as soon as du Charme permits."

"Non. I do not abandon those I love."

Draco's eyebrow shot up. "Love?" he noted. "Well, it must be true. You love us, Bastian?"

He shrugged. "I suppose I do."

"And you, Harry. Do you love me?"

"Well, Draco, since I can't lie, let me just say that I adore you, I treasure you, I cherish you, and I'm extremely randy for you, as well!"

Draco smiled a very wide smile. "And I adore you just as much, Harry. You've taught me more about love than I knew existed. You've filled my soul with light, and hope, and joy. I'm grateful, and full of so much love for you, that I fear I shall burst. I love your eyes, your smile, and your delicious body. I even love those silly Y-fronts you wear! You are the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me, in my life. I shall love you forever!" He grabbed Harry, and threw all the emotions he was feeling into an incredible kiss.

Bastian grew teary-eyed at the beauty of the expressions of love he had just witnessed. The secret part of his heart prayed that he, too, would one day discover so passionate a love.

Harry and Draco began tearing each other's clothes off. As Draco fumbled with Harry's trousers, Harry remembered that Bastian was in the room. "Join us, Bastian."

He took a step back. "Non, 'arry. This moment is for you and your lover."

"Nonsense," said Draco. "You can't leave the room. It would be rude, not to invite you. Besides, you love us, don't you?"

Bastian did not want to answer, but the potion left him no choice. His voice betrayed him. "I want nothing more than to make the love with you both. I love you very much."

"And, we love you, Bastian," Draco said. "Come." He reached out to Bastian, who took his hand.

The trio undressed, and was soon a writhing mass of kisses, and caresses. Bastian sucked on Harry, as Draco entered Bastian from behind. Bastian's own member throbbed, as anticipation oozed from its tip. His muscles gripped Draco's cock as if they never wanted to release him from this intimacy. It drove Draco wild. He started pumping fiercely, and screamed as his climax overloaded his brain. Draco's yelps of pleasure sent Harry over the edge, and he emptied himself into Bastian's hungry mouth. As Harry's first spurt hit Bastian's palate, he grabbed Harry's bum, and held him tightly in place. He sucked harder and harder, as Harry came.

Harry and Draco recovered their senses, and then turned their attention to Bastian. They licked his body, from head to toe, searching for areas that were the most erogenous and sensitive. They found that tweaking Bastian's nipples drove him especially wild with desire. Harry kissed Bastian, as Draco sat down upon the Frenchman's swollen manhood. He rode Bastian fiercely, as Harry's tongue was engaged in a wrestling match with Bastian's.

The trio moved as one being, and Bastian lost himself in the feelings. His climax approached quickly, and the futility of holding back was readily apparent. He let go, with a long moan. Draco felt the warmth. He clenched, and increased the pace with which his was riding Bastian. Bastian's hips began to buck. He broke the kiss with Harry, and begged Draco to stop. "Draco! I can do no more! Pas encore! Pas encore! Oh! OH!"

Draco got a wicked grin on his face. He teased Bastian, by clenching tight again. "Are... you... certain... you've... finished?" he asked, punctuating each word with another thrust of his hips.

"Oui! Oui!" he panted. "Oh, mon dieu! I never fuck so good before! Arrêtez! Arrêtez-vous!"

Draco kept riding him. "Oh?... You... want... me... to... stop... fucking... you?"

Bastian's eyes were rolled up into his head, and his muscles kept contracting, trying to pump out nectar that wasn't there. Harry was giggling, with glee.

"Oui, Draco! No more! I—"

Draco was satisfied, and was about to release Bastian, but the cock inside him suddenly became harder. Bastian was about to come again. That knowledge spurred Draco on. He bounced up and down, faster and faster, as Bastian surrendered a second release into Draco's bum. Harry, realizing what was happening, pinched both Bastian's nipples, as the climax hit. Bastian howled, as this added stimulation sent his brain into orbit.

Finally, his prick softened, and mercifully, plopped out of its recent prison. He was totally spent. The trio stayed motionless for a while, basking in the afterglow of some serious sex. Finally, Draco spoke.

"Did you like that, Bastian?"

"It was incroyable, you 'orny bastard!" he grinned.

Draco laughed. "I rather enjoyed it myself. And you, Harry? Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Quite," Harry smiled.

They rested a while longer, then moved to the bathroom to clean themselves, and each other. They dressed, and were just finishing their lunch, when Dumbledore and du Charme returned. Dumbledore noticed the trios' flushed cheeks, and the furtive glances they gave each other. He decided to ignore them.

"Well, boys, we believe we can break this horrid spell. Fetch your wands." They complied, as Dumbledore and du Charme drew their wands, as well.

"What I can do?" asked Bastian.

"Be ready to catch the boy, once the amber is gone, Bastian. We don't want him hurt." Bastian nodded. "Now, we will all chant our spells, simultaneously. Draco, you will keep chanting Deletrius!' Véronique, you take Diffindo!' I will use `Enervate!'

"And I?" asked Harry.

"Harry, once our spells are cast, I will call upon you to summon your Patronus. It will be a strain on all of us, but we must persevere, if we are to succeed."

They began their work by forming a circle around the massive chunk of amber. Draco, du Charme, and Dumbledore chanted for nearly an hour, working up a sweat, before seeing any results. Finally, the amber started to glow with a faint, yellow light.

"Now, Harry! NOW!" Dumbledore cried.

Harry pointed his wand at the glowing amber. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he shouted. Silvery threads sprung from the tip of his wand. They swirled in midair, and took the form of a great stag. The stag was regally beautiful. It tipped its head, benevolently, and permitted its antlers to touch the amber. A tiny, silver crack began to form, within the petrified resin.

The crack flowed, like a liquid, through the amber. It forked, and spread, and soon hid the boy inside from view. The entire mass beamed with silver light. A soft hum could be heard, which soon grew louder, and louder. The sound was painful to all in the room, yet they continued their chanting.

Just as they thought they would have to drop their wands, and cover their ears, the amber exploded in a burst of light that threw everyone to the floor. When their vision cleared, they saw Bastian cradling the mysterious, young wizard, in his arms. Both were unconscious.

Harry helped Draco to his feet, as Dumbledore did the same for du Charme. "Are you all right, my dear?"

"Quite, Albus. Quite."

"Boys! Help them onto the bed." Harry and Draco hoisted the two unmoving boys onto the bed. Dumbledore conjured up a pair of cool, damp cloths, and he and du Charme attempted to revive them.

Bastian came around first. "What happened?" he asked, groggily.

"Rest, Bastian," Dumbledore comforted him. "The other boy has been freed. You've done well."

Bastian smiled, weakly. "Ça va bien, monsieur. I am good." He sat up, slowly, and looked at the boy beside him, on the bed. Madame du Charme was wiping his brow with the damp cloth. He began to stir.

The young wizard opened his ice-blue eyes. He appeared to be confused. He spoke. His voice was quite hoarse. "Wh-Who are you?" he croaked. His accent was British.

"My name is Véronique du Charme. I represent the Ministry of Magic, here in France."

The boy sat up. His long, raven hair flowed over his shoulders. "France? I'm in France?"

"Yes," Dumbledore confirmed. "You are. I am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in England."

"I have another question."

"Yes, my lad?"

The boy looked up at Dumbledore. "Who am I?"*

CHAPTER 4: Back to School

Dumbledore and du Charme had their heads together. They seemed to be having a heated debate, out on the balcony. Harry and Draco sat at the edge of the bed, as Bastian and the young wizard reclined, resting. Harry and Draco were curious as to the topic of the adults' conversation, but neither wanted to risk getting caught eavesdropping.

At length, du Charme reentered the room. Dumbledore followed behind her.

"Over my objection, it has been decided that Professor Dumbledore will escort the three of you back to Hogwarts. I shall remain here, in Paris, We will attempt to discover the identity of our recently rescued amnesiac. By combining our resources, we hope to expedite the process."

Bastian stepped forward. "Et moi, madame? Qu'est-ce que j'irai faire?"

"You will remain here, until we decide what is to be done with you."

Disappointment washed over Bastian's face. It was mixed with more than a little fear. "Mais, madame. I have no family, no reason to stay."

"No!" the dark-haired wizard suddenly insisted. "He must come with me."

"Why?" she asked, distrustfully.

"I-I don't know, madame. I only know that it is important. Please. You MUST allow this."

She pondered this. "Albus? Has a Muggle ever even been to Hogwarts before?"

"If one has, it was centuries ago. I don't recall..."

"Do you object, in any way?"

"No, Véronique. He may come. My curiosity has an itch. We'll have to keep them both hidden, of course. They can stay in the Room of Requirement. Harry and Draco can bring them food, and fresh clothing. It will be easier to protect them, the fewer people who know."

"Bon," she replied. "I shall continue my research here, and inform you, should I discover anything." She turned to Bastian, once more. "Et vous, monsieur. You are to tell no one what you have seen!" She tapped his nose with her wand. "Comprenez-vous?"

"Oui, madame," he gulped.

Dumbledore turned to the boys. "Dress warmly, my boys. It will be quite chilly tonight, especially as you approach London. It will be raining there. When you arrive, go directly to Hagrid's house. I shall meet you there, and clear you a path to the Room of Requirement."

"Will Hagrid be there, Professor?" asked Harry.

"No, Harry. He'll be on the seventh floor, shooing late-night wanderers back to their beds. Now, Bastian, I suggest you tender your notice to this establishment. I suspect it will be a while, before you return."

"Oui, monsieur. I go now." Bastian scampered off to notify the hotel's head chef that his lust for Bastian would remain eternally unsatisfied. Harry and Draco packed their belongings, and then Harry went down to settle the bill. When Bastian returned, Harry and Draco taught him, and their new friend how to position themselves in order to ride tandem upon a broom.

Madame du Charme wished them all good luck, and then conjured up a camera. She photographed the young wizard's face from a variety of angles, and then bid them farewell. Dumbledore gave the quartet one final admonition, before he, too, departed. "Directly to the school, Harry. No stops."

"Yes, sir," he agreed.

"I'll see you, soon," Dumbledore assured him. "Apparition!" he said, and then he was gone.

"Are you ready, Bastian?" Harry asked. Bastian nodded. "And, you—er— What shall we call you?"

"Well," the young man mused, "I don't know. You found me in Paris. Call me `Paris,' for now."

"Right. `Paris,' it is. Let's get a move on. We've a long flight ahead of us. Mount up, Draco. We're off!"

The quartet flew into the night. The sky over the city was clear and full of stars. Bastian and Paris were amazed by the view, but both felt shaky about flying, holding on to their chauffeurs for dear life. The hours passed, and eventually they approached the English Channel. The storm Dumbledore had predicted was in full force. It was pouring over London.

They flew above the clouds, as long as they could, but got soaked as they descended onto the Hogwarts grounds. They landed behind Hagrid's house. They could see candlelight pouring out from the windows. As they approached the door, Dumbledore opened it from inside.

"Come in! Come in, boys! You must be chilled to the bone." Four sets of chattering teeth informed the headmaster that he was correct. He pulled them inside. "Off you go, straightaway! I've drawn you all a hot bath. Hagrid's tub is big enough to accommodate all four of you, of course. I've left dry clothes. Go! Warm up, and then make your way to the Room of Requirement. I'll go help Hagrid keep the path clear. Be quick about it, gentlemen." He left, quickly.

The boys stripped off their wet clothes, then ran to the tub. It was, indeed, enormous. They jumped in, their teeth still chattering.

"Oh, bloody hell, this feels good!" Draco exclaimed, as he settled into the steamy water. He lowered himself, until his chin was level with the surface of the water.

"I agree," said Harry, who mimicked Draco's actions.

"That rain was bloody cold," said Paris. "I thought I'd never be warm again. My bloody willy couldn't climb far enough up into my body. I thought I'd lose him to frostbite!"

"D'accord, Paris," Bastian agreed, as he luxuriated in the bath. "Now, the weelee is comfortable, non?" he laughed.

Harry and Draco giggled, as well. "Shall we invite him to join our little club, Harry?" Draco asked, in a wickedly impish tone.

"We might, at that," Harry smirked. "Bastian?"

"Oui, 'arry."

Paris was confused. "What club?"

"Well, Paris," Harry asked, "If you're up to it, how would you like to be the subject of a mass seduction?"

"You boys fancy me?" Paris asked.

"Oh, yes," Draco nodded. "Very much so."

"Oui, Paris. You are very beautiful."

Paris blushed. "I-I've never—I mean, I don't remember—"

"Not to worry," Draco assured him. "We'll be quite gentle. Harry. Give him a kiss."

Harry leaned in, and Paris moved to meet him. Their lips touched, and Paris's instincts took over. He parted his lips, and allowed Harry's tongue to enter. Harry took Paris's face in his hands, and kissed him, sweetly. Suddenly, something happened.

As soon as Paris started kissing Harry back, Harry suddenly felt like he was going to climax. The feeling hit him, in a rush, and he spurted threads of nectar into the bathwater. He fell back, away from the kiss, and splashed backwards onto his bum.

"What the hell was that?" Harry asked.

"I don't know, Harry," Paris said. "You just... came!"

"What?" Draco asked.

"He's right, Draco. He kissed me, and I came, immediately. It was quite intense. I think there's something magickal in his kiss!"

"Really?" Draco was intrigued. He looked at Paris. "May I?" he asked.

"Yes, Draco. I'm just as curious as you are!"

Draco leaned over, and let Paris kiss him. His cock was already hard, but no sooner did their tongues meet, than Draco moaned, leaving his own deposit in the warm water. "That was incredible, Paris. Intoxicating, like a drug."

"I can't explain it, Draco. It just felt like a kiss to me. I think so, anyway, because I don't remember kissing anyone before."

Bastian spoke up. "Will you kiss me, too, Paris?" he asked.

"Of course, Bastian," Paris nodded. He leaned over, and kissed Bastian, whose cock also exploded, immediately.

"Mon dieu! C'est incroyable!" he panted, as he tried to regain his senses.

"I'm glad you all enjoyed yourselves," Paris said, as he stood. "I feel rather cheated, though. And, so does he," he said, indicating his own stiffened member. It was pointing up at a forty-five degree angle from his body. It was huge. Much bigger than Oliver Wood's. The head was swollen, and turning purple. Even though it was fully erect, the foreskin extended halfway down the head.

Harry touched it first. He gripped it near the head, and pulled down on the skin, retracting the foreskin, fully exposing the head. He knelt before Paris, and took him into his mouth.

"Oh, that feels wonderful," Paris moaned, as Harry licked and sucked his pulsing manhood. Draco and Bastian covered Paris's body with kisses, and gentle nips. They licked his nipples, in tandem, as Harry continued to suck on Paris's hardness.

"Oh! Ohhh!" Paris moaned. He felt adored. He also felt a climax approaching. "Harry!" he gasped. "Something's happ—"

Harry started sucking harder, wishing he could fit more of this beauty's enormity into his mouth. Paris shot jet after jet, into Harry's mouth. Harry fought to neither swallow, nor gag. He succeeded, but with difficulty. Once Paris stopped spurting, Harry released his softening cock, and pulled the foursome into a group kiss.

He shared Paris's nectar with the group, but as they kissed Paris, the others all felt another climax overtake them. They were dry climaxes, but intense, nonetheless. Paris pulled the others into his kiss, and held them tightly, as his tongue drove them all insane with ecstasy. Finally, after about a minute, they could take no more. They pushed Paris away, and collapsed onto their bottoms, totally exhausted.

"Bloody hell, Paris," Draco panted, "That kiss of yours is fatal!"

"I wish I knew what was so special about it, Draco. But, let me say, you all have talents of your own. That was the best climax I can ever remember having!" he joked.

"Oi, Paris!" Draco snapped. "Im the smart-arse around here! No stepping on my thunder!" He tweaked Paris's bollocks, playfully.

"We'll see, Draco. We'll see." He leapt at Draco, and planted a kiss on him, before he could react. Once the kiss was in place, however, Draco DID react. His body twitched with the effects of a third, intense orgasm. His moans turned to whimpers, as Paris refused to let him go. He was too weak, and too lost in ecstasy, to fight Paris off. He was totally at the mercy of this kissing bandit.

Paris kissed him for a solid two minutes, as Harry and Bastian watched in amazement. Draco's cock throbbed violently, trying to expel its usual nectar, but having none left to deliver. Tears poured from Draco's eyes, as the unending climax short-circuited all rational thought.

Finally, Paris released him, and his limp, spent form slid down into the tub. Every muscle in his body was exhausted, and he almost slid under the water. Harry and Bastian grabbed him, and pulled him up, into a sitting position. "I-I—" was all Draco could manage to babble.

"I think our new friend may just have you beat, Draco. You may have to pass the sceptre!"

"I... sur... render," Draco panted. Paris smiled.

Bastian spoke up. "I want to try that. Will you kiss me again, Paris?"

"I would, Bastian, but not here. One of you will drown, if we keep this up. Where's this `Room of Requirement,' Harry? We should go there. Professor Dumbledore is waiting for us."

"Inside the school. On the seventh floor," Harry replied. "Can you walk, Draco?"

Draco tried to stand. He was more than a bit shaky. The others helped him out of the tub and into some dry clothes. They dressed, as well, and the foursome made their way across the grounds and into the school.

Bastian and Paris were captivated by the moving staircases and the `living' artwork upon the walls. Draco was still too stunned to notice, but Harry realized that all the paintings' subjects were sound asleep. That was quite unusual. There were more than a few night owls among the denizens of the paintings. Harry suspected this was Dumbledore's work, or perhaps part of the charm that surrounded the school. In either case, they would be able to get all the way to the seventh floor without being detected.

When they arrived at the Room of Requirement, Hagrid was guarding the door. He couldn't help but see that Harry and two strangers were helping Draco Malfoy walk.

"Hi, Harry!" Hagrid greeted him. "What's with `im?"

"Long flight," Harry offered. Obviously, the Veritaserum had worn off.

Hagrid shrugged, then stepped aside. The boys led Draco into the room where Dumbledore was waiting.

"Come in, gentlemen. Close the door." The foursome entered. Draco stood on his own, so as not to be forced to answer any questions. "Hagrid is the only one who knows we have guests. I'd prefer to keep it that way. Am I understood?" Harry and Draco nodded. "Good. Now, I will arrange to have meals sent up here to Bastian and... and..."

"Paris, sir," Harry offered. "We're calling him `Paris,' for the time being."

"Very well," he continued. "Harry and Draco will resume their normal activities, and no one will be the wiser. I will attempt to figure out who Paris really is, and why our Enemy had him imprisoned."

Harry debated about whether or not to tell Dumbledore about Paris's magickal kiss. He felt that it might be an important clue, but in the end, he was too embarrassed to be discussing his sex life with his headmaster. He kept silent.

"We'll get them settled in," Harry said.

"Be quick about it," Dumbledore admonished. "It's well past curfew. Gryffindor and Slytherin have Quidditch practice tomorrow afternoon. Meet me back here after that." He turned to the two visitors. "Get some sleep, gentlemen. I'll be back in the morning." With that, he left, taking Hagrid with him.

"Well, that went better than was to be expected," Draco exclaimed. "I thought, for certain, he'd tear us new arseholes over this."

"He's more concerned about Paris, Draco," Harry said.

"Well, that's good," said Paris. "I'm quite eager to find out who I am... and what happened to me."

"And, I am 'appy to be 'aving this adventure," added Bastian.

Harry looked through the supplies Dumbledore had provided. "There's some food here. And some clothes, and toiletries. I suppose you'll both be fine, until we return tomorrow afternoon."

"We'll find SOME way to occupy ourselves," Bastian winked.

"I suppose you will," Harry smiled. "Good night."

The round of `good nights' continued, and soon, Paris and Bastian were alone.

"Et maintenant, may I 'ave another of your kisses, Paris?" Bastian pleaded.

"Perhaps you should get out of those clothes first, Bastian," he replied. "We wouldn't want to stain them."

"Bon idée, Paris." They were naked, in less than a minute.

Meanwhile, Harry and Draco were about to head to their separate dormitories. "Harry, what shall we tell Ron, and Justin, and Granger, for that matter?"

"Well," Harry pondered, "We know we can trust them, but Dumbledore doesn't. There may be danger, besides. I think we should keep them out of this."

"I agree. But, they know we went to Paris. We have to tell them something."

"We'll tell them the truth. Dumbledore discovered our absence, and followed us. The further details of our adventure are to remain not discussed, as per his orders. They'll understand."

"I don't know, Harry. They can all be Nosy Parkers, when the mood strikes them."

"Perhaps," Harry admitted. "They may be cross with us, but it's for their own good."

"Right. Good night, Harry. I love you."

"I love you, too, Draco. Good night." They kissed, and then went their separate ways.

Everyone was asleep when Harry returned to his dormitory, but his luck ran out, as the sun came up. Harry woke to find Ron, sitting on the corner of Harry's bed. "Oi, Harry. So, what happened?"

"Good morning to you, too, Ron," Harry mumbled, still half-asleep.

"Yeah, yeah. Good morning. So, what happened?"

"I'm sorry, Ron. Dumbledore's ordered us not to discuss it."

"Dumbledore? How did HE get involved?" He realized Harry wasn't going to answer. "Bloody hell!"

"I'll fill you in as soon as I can. I promise."

"Okay, Harry." Ron was glum.

Breakfast was uneventful. After the students were dismissed to their first class, Dumbledore approached Harry, then signaled Draco to join them.

"Yes, professor?" Harry asked.

"I'll bring breakfast upstairs myself. I'll be working with Paris all morning. I'd like the two of you to join us there after lunch."

They boys obeyed. They were distracted all morning, but they managed to get through their classes. Once the lunch crowd was dismissed, however, they wasted no time in making their way to the seventh floor. They feigned an argument as Filch walked down the hallway. As soon as he was out of sight, they entered the Room of Requirement.

"Any progress, professor?" Harry asked.

"I'm afraid not, Harry. Our friend here is under the influence of some very powerful magicks. I can't determine the source of his memory loss, let alone reverse it. I'm awaiting word from Madame du Charme, as we speak. Perhaps, she has learned something of use."

"I hope so," Paris said. "This is bloody frustrating!"

Bastian put his hand on Paris's shoulder. "They will help you, Paris. Have courage."

"Courage isn't the problem, Bastian. It's bloody patience that's in short supply!" Paris plopped down on the corner of the massive bed, and began to sulk.

There was a knock at the door. It opened, and Hagrid escorted Madame du Charme into the room.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," she said.

"Hello, Véronique. Have you learned anything?"

"I'm sorry. Not much, Albus. I showed the photographs around, but no one could identify our mystery man. One thing was quite strange though. While younger witches and wizards don't recognize the boy at all, every wizard over the age of fifty claimed the boy looked familiar. To a one."

"Just as we did," Dumbledore mused. "It must mean something."

"I agree," she said. "Any news here?"

"No, my dear. I've had no luck at all. We seem to have but this one clue."

"And, I've been no help," Paris added. "I can remember general things. It's the details of my own life which have abandoned me."

Harry began to blush. "Perhaps, we should give them the other clue we've discovered."

"Harry!" Draco cried.

"You know something, Monsieur Potter?" du Charme scowled. "Out with it!"

"Well, you see—"

Paris stopped him. "Let me, Harry." He turned to du Charme. "Madame, we have discovered that there is some other magickal spell upon me."

"Go on," was all she said.

"It would appear that there is something—er—when I—er—"

"Speak up, young man!"

"Perhaps, I should just show you." Before she could object, he took her into his arms, and kissed her. She let out a muffled yelp, as an intense climax overtook her. She tried to push him away, but couldn't find the strength. He demonstrated his point, and released her. She stumbled backward, and Dumbledore caught her.

"I'm sorry, madame," Paris apologized. "I didn't know how to explain—"

"What happened, my dear?" he asked, though an idea was dawning.

"Le petit mort, Albus. Un GRAND petit mort!" she gasped.

Now, Dumbledore almost stumbled. "What?"

"You heard me." She was not about to repeat herself.

Dumbledore gathered himself, and strode over to Paris. He studied the boy's face, and, suddenly, his eyes opened wide. "Of course," he said, under his breath. "Of course! Why did I not see this sooner?"

"What?" Draco asked.

"I know exactly who our young friend is!"

"Who?" asked du Charme.

"Think back, Véronique. Nineteen fifty-five."

She was puzzled, at first, but the memory soon came. She gasped. "Is it possible—?"

"I believe so, my dear. This is a great day, indeed."

Hagrid gently elbowed Harry, and almost sent him flying. "Harry, do you have any idea what they're talking ab—" Then, realization hit him. "Stars and garters, perfessor! You mean, that's—"

"Yes, Hagrid. I'm certain."

Hagrid clapped his hands together, in glee. "This is marvelous! You-Know-Who doesn't stand a chance, now!"

The boys felt frustratingly excluded. Draco was the first to speak up. "WHO IS HE?" he shouted.

"Yes!" Paris exclaimed. "Who the bloody hell am I?"

Harry, Draco, and Bastian were speechless when Dumbledore answered. "Why, you are Merlin, of course."

CHAPTER 5: The True Danger

"Merlin?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"Impossible!" said Draco.

Before Dumbledore could respond, they all heard a scratching at the door. Hagrid opened it, cautiously, and the black owl flapped into the room, a scroll in its talons. The bird flew directly at Paris, and deposited the scroll at his feet.

Paris picked up the scroll, and loosened the ribbon with which it was bound. He unrolled it. Upon it was written a single word.

"What does it say?" asked Draco.

"Hexnullium." As Paris spoke the word, the scroll exploded in a burst of golden light. The burst contracted, and a ball of brilliant yellow light flew into Paris's mouth. His eyes began to glow, and then the effect subsided.

The young wizard surveyed the room. "Albus! Dear boy! How wonderful to see you again!"

Dumbledore fell to one knee. "And you, my lord. We feared the worst."

"It was necessary. Get up, old boy. I heard that knee creak!"

"Yes, my lord." Dumbledore stood. "Allow me to present Véronique du Charme of the French Ministry of Magic."

She curtsied. "My lord." Merlin nodded.

"And Hagrid, our groundskeeper, and Care of Magical Creatures professor, here at Hogwarts."

Hagrid grabbed Merlin's hand, pumping it fiercely. "Oh, my. This IS a great honor, yer lordship! A great honor, indeed!" Merlin smiled, though he felt his arm would soon be ripped from its socket. A small grunt escaped, and Hagrid realized his mistake. He released Merlin's hand, apologetically.

"And the boys—" Dumbledore began.

"Unnecessary, my boy. I remember everything that happened in Paris." He turned to the boys. "It's true, boys. I am Merlin."

"Excuse me," Harry said. "But, Merlin is centuries old. You look to be our age. How—?"

Dumbledore put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry. Merlin was born old. He lives his life in reverse."

It was difficult for Harry to wrap his mind around that concept, but resigned himself to accepting it as fact. When you thought about it, it wasn't much weirder than any of the other wonders he'd experienced since becoming a part of the Wizarding world.

The black owl hopped up, then perched itself on Merlin's shoulder. It nuzzled Merlin's cheek. Merlin stroked its feathers. "Oh, yes, Fidelius! I've missed you, too! Are you ready to get back to work?" The owl gave a short shriek. "Excellent. Go fetch my wand. I'll be here at the school."

Hagrid opened the door, and Fidelius flew out. Merlin turned to the group. "I suppose you'd all like an explanation. Where shall I begin?"

"How about nineteen fifty-five?" Dumbledore prompted. "There's been a mystery scratching at my brain for fifty years!"

"And we know how much you despise brain itches, don't we, Albus?" Merlin chuckled.

Dumbledore harrumphed. "Yes," was all he said.

"Very well. Your supposition is correct. It was Voldemort who sealed me in amber, fifty years ago."

Harry was confused. "But he's not that old, Par—Merl—er—my lord."

"Call me Merlin. Harry. I never much went in for titles. And, you're right. He's not. He was brought into the past by my greatest enemy, Morgan Le Fay. She stole my time-turner, came to a day just before you were born, and recruited Voldemort to aid her in a devilish plot to murder me. They failed, of course, but they DID manage to seal me up quite nicely."

Harry was no less confused. "But, what about the letter that we found at Gringott's? How did you place that there?"

"I'd placed that letter at Gringott's and instructed Fidelius centuries ago, Harry. I'm quite good at foreseeing the future. I also used my time-turner to visit and recruit your fathers. Everything was in place before my unfortunate encounter with a chunk of amber."

Draco raised a finger. "Then, why couldn't you avoid those events, if you knew they were going to happen?"

"I couldn't, Draco. Certain events had to transpire, in order to avoid an alternate future. If I hadn't allowed myself to be kept prisoner for fifty years, Harry would never have been born. That was the ultimate goal of Morgan's plot. She knew that Harry was destined to defeat Voldemort. She didn't tell HIM that, of course. Nor did she tell him that Harry was also destined to defeat her!"

"I've got to go up against Morgan Le Fay?" Harry gulped. She's the most powerful witch who ever lived!"

"And you will be the greatest wizard, my boy! Not to fear. I'm here now. We'll get through this."

"I have a question," said du Charme. "I thought Morgan was dead."

"More's the pity, my dear, but, no. Now that my memory's restored, she'll turn up. That was why they couldn't kill me. I cast the amnesia upon myself. After providing Fidelius with that restorative scroll, of course. I didn't want them poking around in my mind for details about this future. I had to bide my time, until Harry and Draco were old enough to protect themselves. And, here we are."

Bastian finally spoke up. "Monsieur Merlin. Why did you insist upon having me come to Angleterre?"

"Ah, yes. I suppose it's time you understood your part in this." He placed his hand upon Bastian's brow. "Hexnullium!"

Bastian's eyes glowed, like Merlin's did. "Mon dieu!" he gasped.

"Do you remember?" Merlin asked.

"Oui, Merlin." He smiled.

"Then, why don't you reintroduce yourself to these fine people?"

"Madame et messieurs, je m'appelle Lancelot du Lac."

"Sir Lancelot?" Harry gasped.

"Oui, 'arry. C'est moi."

"This is incredible! Merlin?" Harry wondered.

"I thought I may need an ally in this time period, so I recruited the most trustworthy one I could find. My magicks have kept him young, but I had to wipe his memory, so he'd be safe from Morgan. Did you not notice how easily he accepted Wizardry? It was innate. He's been around magick for more than a thousand years."

"It's true. I know I never get older, but I had no idea why. Ça, c'est mon secret. Alors, Merlin, où est la merdeuse?"

"I don't know, my old friend. Perhaps I'll ask the Lady."

"The Lady?" Draco asked.

"The Lady of the Lake."

"The L— She's real, too?"

"Oh, yes, Draco. Quite real. We should speak with her straightaway."

"How far is it to her lake?" asked Harry. Dumbledore and du Charme just smiled.

So did Merlin and Lancelot. "Hmm," said Merlin. "From here? I'd say... about five minutes walk."

Harry was startled. "Our lake?"

"Why do you think this place was chosen as a site for Hogwarts?" Dumbledore said. "This is one of the most magickal places on the planet."

Merlin motioned to the door. "Madame du Charme? Gentlemen? Shall we go? I want to know what that evil bitch is up to. And I want to know NOW."

Heads turned as the strange group made its way through the school and out onto the grounds. None stopped to answer questions, and the determined look on their faces worked to ward off any interruptions. They marched to the shore of the lake, where Merlin walked to the edge of the water.

"Wake, my dearest. We must speak."

The surface of the water started to ripple, and a form began to rise, and take shape. Hagrid and the younger wizards were surprised to learn that the Lady of the Lake was, in fact, made of water.

She spoke. Her voice was the sound of water. "Merlin. It has been a long time... by some standards."

"Aye, indeed. Art thou well?"

"You do not need the old speech, old fool. I've learned quite of bit of slang from the randy teenagers who have made love in my waters over the decades, since last we spoke. What's up?"

"Oh, fine. I've just been freed from the amber. Where's that bitch, Morgan?"

"She's close by, Merlin. I've tasted her foul scent on the wind. She's been waiting here for you, hidden, for years."

"Damn and damn," Merlin cursed, under his breath. He turned to Dumbledore. "Albus, this is serious. If she's here, everyone at the school is in danger. I'm afraid we'll have to go public."

"I agree. We'll address everyone at supper. We should go back indoors, and decide what to say."

They turned to go, but the Lady stopped them. "Lancelot du Lac," she burbled.

"Yes, my Lady?" he replied.

She reached one hand into the water, as she addressed Lancelot. "Though it is no longer the symbol of the monarchy, Arthur wanted you to have this. Know that your transgression is forgiven." With that, she raised a magnificent sword high into the air.

Lancelot gasped and fell to one knee. "Excalibur!"

The Lady laid the sword across her arm, offering Lancelot the hilt. "The task will ultimately fall to you, Lancelot."

"What does she mean by that?" asked Hagrid.

Merlin smiled. "He's going to behead the bitch."

CHAPTER 6: The Villain Revealed

Once they'd arrived at the Room of Requirement, Harry asked Merlin if he could confide in Ron, Justin, and Hermione before the general announcement was made. "We owe them that much," Harry pleaded.

Merlin huddled with Dumbledore and du Charme. "Yes, Harry. Invite them to join us straightaway. The rest of us will wait here." Harry ran to round up the others, who were soon brought up to speed.

"Merlin. In the flesh! This is so exciting!" Hermione babbled. "I've read all about you, you know. I—"

"Yes, Miss Granger." Dumbledore patted her shoulder. She took the hint. "We have much work to do."

"How will you find Morgan Le Fay?" asked Justin.

"Yeah," added Ron. "Where could she be hiding?"

"I don't know, Ron," admitted Merlin. "She's shielded herself quite well from my sight. I can sense she's here, though, now that the Lady has told me."

"Well," Dumbledore said, "If she already knows you're here, we won't be tipping our hand. Once we make the announcement, we'll have hundreds of other eyes and minds at our disposal. We'll find her, and stop her."

Dumbledore waited until supper was cleared away before addressing the faculty and students. The older folks in the crowd experienced a sense of curiosity about the young, dark-haired wizard that surpassed the natural curiosity of the students. It was also noticed that every ghost in the school was in attendance. Even Moaning Myrtle, whom many was thought was confined to the bathroom in which she died.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Dumbledore began, "Today is both a joyous day and a dark one. Please rise." The assemblage stood. "It is my great pleasure to introduce to you our visitor, once thought lost to us... Merlin."

Gasps abounded, from young and old alike. The faculty fell to one knee. The students followed suit. Merlin waved off the reverence. "Sit. Sit, everyone." Merlin could see the looks of confusion and curiosity intensify, as the crowd retook its seats. "I know you have many questions, but time is precious. Headmaster Dumbledore arranged for me to tell my story to a Miss Rita Skeeter, so you can read the detailed account in tomorrow's Daily Prophet. For now, all you must know is this: a great danger looms over Hogwarts, and we need your help to defeat it."

He urged Lancelot forward. "This young man is here to help. He is NOT a wizard." More gasps. "May I present Sir Lancelot du Lac, of the Court at Camelot?" There were fewer gasps, this time. Even the youngest first-year realized that something big was happening. Something serious.

"The greatest enemy the Wizarding world has ever known, the evil witch, Morgan Le Fay, is somewhere here at Hogwarts." The gasps returned. "Your Headmaster and I would ask that you all keep your eyes and ears open. She is most likely masquerading as someone else, and is very likely in this Hall, as I speak." People began looking around, murmuring nervously. Merlin raised a hand to silence them. "Be wary if someone acts quite out of character, or whose memory is suddenly faulty beyond reason. Should you have suspicions," Merlin admonished, "I forbid any of you to act alone, or to confront her! She is much too powerful for any one wizard to face. You will notify me or Professor Dumbledore, immediately." He shot a glance at Harry and Draco. "I trust I am clearly understood." They gave him a nod.

"The most important thing is that now that Morgan knows we are on to her, she must not be permitted to escape. This school is on lockdown. I have notified the Ministry of Magic, and Cornelius Fudge is now posting Dementors outside every exit, and outside every window. Our ghosts will be patrolling the school. Mercifully, Morgan's magicks hold no sway over the dead. Unfortunately, they can't do much to her, either. They can serve to raise the alarm, though, and their diligence cannot be diminished by the need for sleep. NO ONE is to enter or leave the building. That includes owls. Morgan will not be seeking aid from anyone outside the school. I apologize to the Quidditch teams, as well as Hagrid, Madam Sprout, Madam Hooch, and all faculty whose lesson plans involved being out-of-doors. I expect, however, that all would agree with this decision." Nods of assent were unanimous.

Dumbledore continued. "I am imposing a strict curfew until the threat has passed. All students will report to their common rooms by nine o'clock, and travel in groups of no less than three. Detentions will be held in abeyance until Morgan is found. I want NO ONE wandering the corridors at night. At nine o'clock, two faculty members will be assigned to each House's common room, and a nose count will be taken. Other faculty will travel in pairs at all times. Choose up bunkmates, ladies and gentlemen. We're all on the buddy system for the duration. Professor Flitwick, you're with me."

Dumbledore dismissed the assemblage, yet few people left. Most broke off into groups to discuss the newly revealed incidents. Dumbledore approached Harry and Draco. "I want the two of you to move into the Room of Requirement, with Merlin and Lancelot. You'll be safer there. At this point, you two are the only ones who I am sure are NOT Morgan. I want to keep it that way."

"Yes, sir," Harry said.

"Go now. Come to my office tomorrow morning, after breakfast."

Harry and Draco led Merlin and Lancelot up to the seventh floor. "Quite the scoop you gave Rita Skeeter," Draco said.

"I gave the `scoop' to the Daily Prophet, Draco. Skeeter's just the one who showed up. I started the paper, after all."

"You did?" asked Harry.

"I'd forgotten," Draco admitted. "Harry, Merlin is to us what Benjamin Franklin was to the American Muggles. He's had his hand in a lot of our innovations."

"That's true, Harry," Merlin agreed. "I've kept quite busy over the years. I'm especially proud of that charmed kiss of mine. I'm surprised the charm survived my amnesia spell. I've never taught that spell to anyone, you know."

Harry blushed at remembering the effect of Merlin's kiss. He felt a tightness in his Y-fronts. "I-I—"

Merlin smiled. "You want another one, don't you, Harry?" he chuckled.

"I wouldn't mind another one, either," Draco piped up.

Merlin laughed out loud. "And what about you, Lancelot? Are you feeling randy, as well?"

Lancelot smirked. "I'm French, Merlin."

"True enough, old boy." They had arrived on the seventh floor. "Well, tomorrow will be full of drama, so perhaps a bit of fun IS in order. Last one in the bed is a rotten dragon's egg!" Merlin took off, down the corridor. The others joined in the race. Soon, all four were naked, tickling and wrestling each other. Their arousal was evident. The play became more intense, but Merlin avoided kissing anyone on the mouth. He wanted to prolong everyone's enjoyment.

Harry moved to lick Draco's leaking member, as Merlin did the same for Lancelot. Suddenly, a thought struck Harry. "I wish Ron and Justin were here to share this. By rights, they've been a part of this since the beginning."

"Easier done than said, Harry," Merlin said. He snapped his fingers, and the two invitees appeared in the room.

"What the—" Justin exclaimed.

"Oi!" Ron cried. "Harry!" he added, once he realized where he was. "You're shagging Merlin?!"

"Well, yes, Ron," Harry said. "And you will be, too! Get naked, you lot."

They didn't have to be asked twice. They shucked off their clothes, and joined the others. Soon, the bed was covered in a writhing mass of arms, legs, tongues, and cocks. They licked and fondled each other, in various combinations. Draco buried his face in Harry's bum, plunging his tongue in and out of Harry's hungry rosebud.

Lancelot sampled Ron's throbbing stiffness. He'd had a thing for redheads since before Guinevere. Justin attacked Lancelot's cock like it was the source of his Last Meal.

Merlin could resist kissing Harry no longer. He grabbed Harry's face, and planted a vigorous kiss on him. It had the expected results. Harry fired a pearly rocket that landed on Merlin's belly. His moans told Draco what was happening, so Draco obliged by increasing the pace of his strokes. Harry got lost in the orgasm.

Merlin broke the kiss before Harry passed out. "That doesn't get boring," Harry panted.

Merlin smiled. "Happy to hear it. But, Ron and Justin have no idea what you're talking about." He gave Harry a conspiratorial wink.

"So they don't," Harry smiled. "Let's don't be rude, nor selfish."

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked. Merlin took Ron's face in his hands, and kissed him soundly. Ron was overcome by the most intense climax he'd ever felt. Merlin kept it going for a full minute. Justin watched, as Ron's cock sprayed them all. Ron's body began to twitch, as Merlin maintained the kiss. Finally, just as Ron's eyes were starting to roll up into his head, Merlin released him. "Bloody fucking hell! What was that?"

Draco laughed. "That was Merlin's magickal mouth."

"That was the most wicked thing ever!" Ron gasped. "Justin! You've got to try that!"

Merlin crooked his finger at Justin. "C'mere, yobbo!" he teased. Justin was eagerly curious. He allowed Merlin to kiss him, and, once more, a shower of creamy, white satisfaction doused the sextet.

"Merlin's balls, that was amazing!" Justin sputtered, between gasps for air. He then remembered whom he was addressing. "Oh, I'm sorry! It's—It's an expression!"

"So," Merlin laughed. "Even my bollocks are famous! How delightful."

The sex play continued long into the night. Each of the young men climaxed at least thrice before they all fell asleep in each other's arms.

After breakfast, the sextet convened with Dumbledore and Flitwick. The professors looked like they, also, had been awake all night, but Harry suspected their sleeplessness had different causes. Dumbledore spoke.

"I've conferred with Professor Flitwick for most of the night. We've concluded that Morgan is probably possessing someone here at Hogwarts."

"Like Voldemort did with Professor Quirrell?" asked Harry.

"Yes, Harry. Very much so," confirmed Dumbledore. Just then, Snape entered the office. "Ah, Severus," Dumbledore said. "I trust you've completed your work?"

"Yes, Headmaster," Snape nodded. He reached into his robes, and withdrew a vial of a luminous, purple liquid. "This ought to reveal her."

"Splendid, Severus." Dumbledore took the vial, examined it, and then passed it off to Flitwick.

"Yes, yes," said Flitwick. "I'll get on this straightaway." He excused himself, and left the office.

"Severus," Dumbledore continued, "Will you head on off to Slytherin's common room? I'll join you shortly. Draco, you accompany Professor Snape."

"Why?" asked Draco. "What's going on?"

"No arguments, Draco," Dumbledore gently insisted. "Off with you."

"Yes, Headmaster," Draco grumbled, as Snape tugged him in the direction of the door.

"So," asked Merlin, "What's the plan?"

"Conjure up some finery, Old Man," smiled Dumbledore. "We're throwing you a party!"

At lunch, Dumbledore announced that, in honor of Merlin's return, a special feast would be held at dinner. Culinary dishes from Merlin's day would be served. Silverware would be eschewed, and each of the students would be allowed a small taste of mead during the toast. "Despite the danger looming around us," he said, "The fact of Merlin's return should be celebrated with all the gusto Hogwarts has to offer."

Of course, many of the students had already sampled more than their share of mead (and other potent beverages, for that matter), but an anticipatory murmuring arose from those students who had yet to taste strong drink.

Afternoon classes should have all been canceled for all the inattentiveness. Everyone was looking forward to the evening's festivities, the dark cloud temporarily dispelled. Even those who were painfully aware of what would actually transpire this evening found a few moments of pleasurable anticipation.

When the evening feast appeared on the tables, young and old alike were impressed. Shanks of boar and lamb abounded on golden platters, as did roasted venison, and game birds of every variety. The aromas alone were enough to whet the appetite of any vegetarian. There were mountains of boiled cabbages and potatoes, bricks of cheeses, crusty breads, herbed gravies, and a hot confiture of berries. Beside each of the diner's ornate golden plates was a matching golden goblet. Each was halfway filled with sweet, golden mead.

Merlin sat at the center of the head table, flanked by Dumbledore and Lancelot, as well as the rest of the faculty. Even Filch was there, though he had insisted on a small table for himself, in the back corner of the room. Ron Weasley was practically drooling, as he waited for permission to dig in. He bit his lip, as Dumbledore stood.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please stand and raise your glasses." All complied. "I have known Merlin for more years than I choose to admit," Dumbledore smiled. "I mourned him for more than five decades when we believed he was lost to us. I freely confess that his return has filled my heart with more joy than it has ever known. It brings me great comfort to know that he is among us as we prepare to face dark days. He has been my mentor and my friend. My father and my brother. It was he who gave me my love of education, and is fairly responsible for my attaining my current posting as Headmaster of this school. I owe him my life many times over. I ask you now to drink. Welcome home, Merlin."

"Welcome home, Merlin!" came the roar from the assembled. They drank their mead, placed their glasses on the table, and presented Merlin with an ovation that lasted a solid seven minutes. Tears of joy flowed freely from Merlin's face. Dumbledore stopped clapping, then rested his hand upon Merlin's shoulder. Merlin turned, and embraced his friend. That gesture set many eyes to tearing. Filch suddenly turned away from the crowd, then dug a greasy rag from his pocket.

"Speech! Speech!" Harry shouted as he wiped his cheek with the sleeve of his robes. Others took up the cry.

Dumbledore kissed Merlin on the top of his head. "You'd better say something, Old Man. You're on the hook, now."

"You always were a brat, Albus!" Merlin whispered as he conjured a handkerchief to wipe his eyes. "Very well." He turned to face the crowd. He raised his hands, and the tumult gradually calmed. The room was silent.

"Thank you," he began. "I cannot recall ever experiencing such an outpouring of love. Please know that it is returned in full measure. I plan to do my best to protect you all and rid you of this menace. The first step toward that end is to right a wrong that has existed for a millennium."

He turned to Lancelot. "My friend. I have caused you a thousand years of pain. Your resolve to defend Camelot, Arthur, and me was forged of your loyal nature, but tempered by the guilt you felt after your betrayal of Arthur with Guinevere. Verily, I tell you that my guilt is greater, for you should feel none. It was not your will which led to that fateful love, but mine."

The realization was a crushing blow. Lancelot's knees began to buckle. Merlin reached out to steady him. "Why?" he tried to say, but the word would not come.

"It rent my heart, dearest Knight, but it was necessary. Morgan must taint the pure of heart to thrive. She tainted Arthur when she conceived her vile son, Mordred. I had to get to you before she did. Her plan was to destroy Arthur by having you assassinate Guinevere before his very eyes. Your so-called act of betrayal actually saved both their lives."

Lancelot collapsed into Merlin's arms, sobbing. Though there were hundreds in the room, no other sound was heard. Merlin, too, wept. "I beg you to forgive me, Lancelot."

Lancelot gathered himself. "I must forgive you, Merlin, for I love you dearly, and your motive was love. I do understand, Merlin. Please, do not chastise yourself for me. My tears are not born of anger, but relief. I have not betrayed my dearest friend. My heart is healed."

Merlin kept one arm around Lancelot's shoulder, as he turned to again face the crowd. "Rejoice! For Lancelot is whole! He may now wield Excalibur, and for him, It will sing!!!"

Thunderous applause erupted. Merlin let them cheer, and then settled them down again. "We will keep you all informed as to our progress in hunting our foul intruder. For now, we make merry. So, sit, and enjoy this marvelous feast. Your wily Headmaster has arranged a surprise for after the meal."

It was not long before belts were loosened, and belches echoed through the air. All were quite sated when a wave of Dumbledore's hand cleared the tables. He stood, and a moderately loud belch escaped his throat. "Pardon me," he chuckled. "I appear to have overindulged, as well. I did leave room for afters, though." He waved his hand once more, and a lavish myriad of cakes, pies, and other confections appeared. "Merlin will now hold court. Each of you will approach, in turn. You may ask one question. Choose wisely," he warned, waggling a sly finger, "For if you attempt to be cheeky, or overstep your bounds, you will be taught the meaning of cheekiness. You will NOT out-sly our guest!" Merlin chuckled. "Once you've had your turn, you will be Apparated back to your dormitories. Enjoy the sweets while you wait." The eight Professors who would be on duty in the dormitories then left the Great Hall to man their posts.

"Professor Flitwick, if you please." Flitwick stood, and walked around to the front of the head table. He was carrying the Sorting Hat. It was upside-down, and filled with slips of parchment. Hagrid followed him, carrying a wooden stool. The sight of Hogwarts tallest professor trailing behind its smallest was quite humorous. Hagrid set the stool down in front of the head table. Flitwick placed the Hat upon the stool, and reached inside. He pulled out a slip.

"Neville Longbottom," said the hat.

"Of course, I'm first," Neville lamented to his neighbors. "Not only do I have no idea what I should ask, but I'm going to miss afters, too!" he grumbled. Harry smiled, and quickly stuffed two cherry tarts into Neville's pocket. "Good idea, Harry. Thanks,mate," he smiled.

Poor Neville became more and more nervous as he approached the legendary Wizard. As he passed the Hat, Flitwick handed him the slip containing his name. Neville stuck it in his pocket, and immediately realized his mistake. He pulled his hand out, and it was covered in a sticky, red mess. Neville rolled his eyes, and sighed.

"Hello, Neville." Merlin smiled, hoping to put the boy at ease. He reached out, and took Neville's clean hand. "What is your question?"

Suddenly, Neville knew the question he would ask. He looked Merlin square in the eye, and asked, "Why is it always me?"

One by one, Merlin warmly clasped the hands of the students, as they asked their questions of him. Despite Dumbledore's warning, most of the students squandered this rare opportunity. Some were curious about the past, but their questions were often duplicated. Those who were curious about the future were given cryptic responses for their hubris.

Eventually, the crowd thinned, as, one by one, they disapparated back to their rooms. There were only eight students left in the Great Hall when Hermione's name was called.

She stepped forward. "Hello, Hermione," Merlin greeted her. "What would you like to ask?"

"Oh, dear!" she said. "I didn't expect to be so nervous!"

"That's all right, my dear. Ask away." He took her hand.

"I'd like to know... How did such a pompous git defeat the magicks of myself and my star pupil so easily?"

Lancelot reacted immediately, drawing Excalibur, and lodging its point against Hermione's throat. "Morgan! You bitch!" he shouted.

"Damn you, Merlin!" The body was still Hermione's, but the voice was deeper now, and dripping with contempt. "How—?"

"A little something extra in the mead, Morgan."

"Bastard demon-spawn!" Morgan tried to yank her hand away from Merlin's grasp, but found she couldn't. "And what will YOU do, Lancelot? Murder this young girl?" she smiled, malevolently.

Lancelot was torn. He knew he couldn't strike without killing an innocent.

"Fret not, dear Lancelot," Merlin assured him. "Hermione Granger will come to no harm. We'll just separate her from the vile, soulless cow who has usurped her body."

Dumbledore knew what was coming. He waved his arm, and most of the room's occupants were Apparated back to their dormitories. Only he, Harry, Merlin, Lancelot, and Morgan remained. Harry instinctively drew his wand, and he saw Dumbledore do the same. Morgan, however, was not about to go down without a fight.

"Invecto Neuralgium!" she shouted. Both Harry and Dumbledore shrieked, as a wave of fiery pain shot up their wand hands, and into their brains. They dropped their wands, and collapsed to the floor, clutching their heads. Merlin looked to Lancelot, who was grimacing, rivulets of sweat pouring down his temples. His sword arm was trembling, but only slightly. Merlin could tell he was in agony, yet he refused to lower Excalibur.

"Fight the pain, gentlemen!" Merlin coaxed. "I'll need you all!"

Harry and Dumbledore struggled to reach for their wands, but as their hands approached them, the magickal pain increased. Dumbledore passed out from the excruciating pain. Harry thought his head would explode. He looked at the trio who were still standing. A trickle of blood was leaking from Lancelot's nose. "Do something, Merlin!" Lancelot pleaded, through gritted teeth.

Merlin pointed a finger at Morgan, and mumbled a single word, under his breath. Hermione's eyes glowed red for a brief moment, then returned to normal. Morgan laughed. "Is that the best you can do, old man? I'll carve out your heart!" She raised one hand, and Merlin went flying into the wall. He bounced, hard, and landed on the floor, near Dumbledore. She looked to Lancelot. "Now, you, flea! Begone!" With a quick jerk of her chin, Lancelot, too, flew into the wall. As he hit the floor, the sound of his leg breaking was accompanied by a roar of pain.

Morgan casually brushed the hair from Hermione's eyes, and stepped down toward Harry. "Now, my lad, it's time I dealt with you directly. Voldemort's arrogance may have prevented him from defeating you, but any arrogance I possess, I assure you, is well justified, as you are about to learn. You've experienced Merlin's kiss, Master Potter. Now, experience mine—the same kiss I taught my dear Dementors!"

She bent over Harry, and opened her mouth. Harry recognized the sensation at once. Every feeling of happiness and hope was being sucked out of him. He felt himself grow weaker and more despondent. Suddenly, a blast of silvery light broke the kiss. His vision cleared, and he saw Morgan wrestling with a serpentine Patronus.

"Draco!" Harry gasped.

Indeed, Draco was there, wand in hand. His Patronus was coiling itself around Hermione's legs, and Morgan was actually struggling against it. "Malfoy! Your soul is dark! Don't fight me! Join me! I will make you greater than Voldemort! The entire Muggle world will be yours to command, or to destroy!"

"Shut it, you stupid bitch! Harry's soul is MINE!" Draco tightened his grip on his wand. The silvery snake glowed brighter.

"Yes, Draco, yes! Hold her!" It was Merlin. He reached over and snatched Dumbledore's wand. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he shouted, and Draco's serpent was joined by a blazing, silver owl, which grabbed one of Hermione's arms.

"I'll kill you all!" Morgan shrieked. She splayed her free hand in Draco's direction. He flew backwards, but maintained his grip on his wand, as he landed loudly against one of the great tables.

"Harry! You must take up your wand!" Merlin shouted.

Harry was weak from Morgan's kiss, and the pain of her curse had yet to subside. Yet, he inched closer and closer to his wand, the agony increasing all the while. At last, he managed to wrap his fingers around the wand. It felt like a white-hot steel rod. Blood began pouring from his nose, yet he got out the words. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

The silver light burst forth from Harry's wand, yet it did not take its usual form, that of a stag. No, this Patronus manifested as a great lion. It charged Morgan, and clamped her free hand in its powerful jaws.

The third Patronus did the trick. Morgan bellowed in frustration, and pain. Suddenly, a rush of blackened blood spewed from Hermione's mouth. It landed in a puddle on the floor, then rose up, taking human shape as it did.

The Patronuses, now cradling an unconscious Hermione, lowered her gently to the floor, before fading away. The foul blood, meanwhile, had become solid, and Morgan Le Fay was revealed.

She stood, tall and dark, and dangerously beautiful. "Accio wands!" she shouted, with a wave of her arm. A trio of wands flew away from their wielders, and into Morgan's hand. "Enough play, my lads! Merlin, you die first, knowing that these others will follow!" She pointed the triad at Merlin, who crossed his forearms in front of his face. "Avada—"

Morgan never completed the spell. It would have been difficult, as her head was suddenly rolling across the floor. Merlin uncrossed his arms, and, his vision now unobstructed, saw Lancelot standing upon one leg, a bloody Excalibur in his hands. Morgan's lifeless body crumpled to the floor, black blood pouring from what remained of her neck. Lancelot plunged the sword into her heart with such determination, that he actually staked her body to the stone floor. It burst into flame, and burned into ash within seconds.

Merlin smiled. "Well done, Lancelot. Well done." He turned to tend to Dumbledore, as Draco ran to Harry.

"Harry! Are you all right?"

"Yes, I think so. I still have a nasty headache, though."

"That will pass," assured Merlin, who used Dumbledore's own wand to heal his injuries and return him to the waking world. "Relax, Albus," Merlin whispered to him. "It's over." Dumbledore smiled weakly.

Draco helped Harry up, but no sooner was he steadily upon his feet, than Lancelot started to totter on his one good leg. They managed to catch him before he fell, but the jolt of being snatched up evoked a wince and sharp gasp from Lancelot.

"I'm sorry, Lancelot," Harry apologized.

"As am I," added Merlin. He quickly flicked Dumbledore's wand at Lancelot, healing his leg. With no thought to his own battered and bruised body, Merlin turned to Dumbledore, who was still on the floor. "Off to the hospital wing with you, Albus. I'll clean up this mess."

"Very well, Merlin. I suppose I'm getting too old for this sort of thing."

"YOU'RE too old?" Merlin smirked, rubbing his own bruised shoulder. "I'll be in to see you straightaway." With a wave of Merlin's hand, Dumbledore vanished.

"Hermione!" Harry suddenly shouted.

"Not to worry, Harry. She'll sleep for a day, or two, and won't remember any of what happened since Morgan possessed her. He waved again, and Hermione vanished to join her headmaster in Madam Pomfrey's care.

"That's that," Merlin said. "Thank you for your assistance, Draco. I apologize for underestimating your love for Harry. It turned out to be our best weapon."

"I would have jumped in front of that curse for Harry, Merlin."

"I don't doubt it, Draco," Merlin assured him. "And, neither does Harry, apparently." A single tear fell down Harry's cheek.

"I love you, Draco!" Harry beamed. Before Draco could respond, Harry pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss.

Lancelot smiled with joy, and relief. He moved to where Excalibur stood, sticking out of the floor. With a gentle tug, he extracted the sword from the stone. "I feel invigorated, Merlin. What is next for us? What new adventure?"

"Oh, no, dearest Lancelot. No more adventures for me. Once I've paid a visit to my old friend, Albus, I shall pay one to an old friend of yours."

Lancelot furrowed his brow. "Qui?" he asked.

"A stubborn, old fool called Wart."

Lancelot gasped. "Arthur?"

"That's the one. I think I'd care to spend my remaining years in Avalon. Care to join me?"

"Oui, Merlin, oui!" he beamed.

"Excellent, my boy. Let's be off. Madam Pomfrey must be wondering about her two new charges." He started to raise his arm, then stopped. "Oh, one more thing. Harry, a word, if you please."

Harry approached Merlin, who put his arm around Harry's shoulder, and whispered something in his ear. Draco was curious, and concerned.

"Goodbye, Draco," Lancelot said. "Tell Ron and Justin that they have my love, forever. As do you." He kissed Draco on both cheeks, then full on the mouth.

"I notice your English has improved considerably since Merlin restored your identity and memories," Draco smirked. "Goodbye, Lancelot. Thank you for keeping Harry safe." He embraced Lancelot.

Harry and Merlin had ended their huddle. Merlin waited for Draco to break his embrace with Lancelot, then took Draco into his own arms. "Thank you for finding your way into the light, Draco. You saved more than your own soul for doing so."

"I understand, Merlin. Be happy."

"How can I not, when I will carry the love of such as you with me?" He kissed Draco's forehead, and hugged him tightly.

Lancelot gave Harry an equally tight embrace. "I shall miss you, 'arry!"

"I'll miss you, too, `Paris'!" Harry smiled. Lancelot kissed him, as he had done to Draco.

Their goodbyes complete, Merlin Apparated himself, and Lancelot, to the hospital wing. Harry and Draco were alone.

"I must say, Harry, I've had enough adventure for a while myself! A few days of dull routine sound mighty tempting right now."

"Normally, I'd agree, Draco, but Merlin—"

"Yes. What DID he whisper to you? Another quest?"

"No. He taught me how to do this!" With that, he grabbed Draco, and planted a kiss on him. Draco's knees began to wobble, as a dark stain appeared on the front of his trousers.

Draco pushed Harry away. "Harry!" he gasped.

Harry had a naughty glint in his eye. "Last one to the Room of Requirement is a rotten doxy egg!"

--- THE END ---