Double The Fun

Sprinkling a few more mandrake leaves into the strangely brown mixture in his cauldron, Draco Malfoy stifled a yawn with the back of his hand and leaned back slightly. Potions lessons were never any fun without Snape, even if one happened to be brewing a very interesting, albeit illegal, potion.

The boy's favourite lesson only happened to be his favourite because of a certain black-haired, hook-nosed teacher. Of course he'd never admit it, but he simply itched with pleasure, watching Snape tear into Potter. It just seemed so... predatory. Draco one day hoped to be able to do the same, making the Boy Who Lived dread his appearance and squirm under his piercing gaze. Unfortunately, he hadn't had any such luck so far. Potter only saw him as some sort of fly in the ointment, not even considering him a rival. An annoyance, perhaps. Well, this tonic would soon sort that out.

A small puff of smoke inched towards his nostrils and he almost retched at the overpowering smell. He managed to resist the temptation to keel over, and instead stirred the potion more vigourously. The book had given a diagram of the completed potion, so Draco knew what to look for. It should have been dark purple, not this strange shade of greeny-brown. More Wolfsbane.

He added some of the crushed plant and stirred the mixture slowly, hoping that he'd got the recipe right and the correct amounts of each ingredient. He hadn't made an unusable potion yet. According to his calculations, it should have been turning a deep purple at that very moment, right before his eyes. And turn purple it did.

It started to swirl, picking up speed with every lap of the cauldron, the edges growing darker first and contaminating the rest of the potion. The mist that had previously hung on the surface of the liquid suddenly seemed to be drawn into the concoction; this was obviously the source of the purple pigment. Draco watched the transformation with a small amount of awe. It was working!

And as soon as the mixture had settled down, Draco had quickly scooped some of the thick liquid into a beaker, tipped his head back, and poured nearly every drop down his throat, swallowing profusely to rid his tongue of the bitter taste. He waited a few seconds; the only effect that he felt was a shudder, trickling down his back, tracing a line along his spinal cord and down his legs until it hit the floor. He looked down, almost expecting to see a ring of purple residue at his feet, but there was nothing there. The last wave hit the ground and was followed by nothingness.

It hadn't worked.

Draco felt his temper rising. He had followed the instructions exactly, and that damned book had shown him that that was what the potion should look like. Everything had been followed through with the utmost care, and still he'd had no joy. Damn that potion book to hell. It would be on the Slytherin common room fire in two hours, maximum.

But before he had the chance to think another thought, Draco had been pushed roughly to the ground and something was buzzing in his left ear. He shut his eyes and covered his ears to drown out the world as it wheeled around him. It felt as though someone was jabbing a fork blindly around his brain, and that something had been ripped from his chest and left a gaping, untidy wound. In his normal state, Draco would have worried about the condition of his robes, but as it stood he wasn't feeling too normal. He felt an overwhelming need for sleep.

Carefully, he inched one eye open and saw the most hideous sight he had ever had the misfortune to witness. The entire class was gathered around his personal spot on the floor, pointing and whispering like he was something that was used to being gawked at, such as Potter or somebody equally sideshow looking. But Draco Malfoy was not, and he would not tolerate this. Brushing himself off, he rose to his feet and glared at everybody assembled around him.

"What?!" he hissed, his perfect eyebrows meshing under his vicious frown. "Something on my robes?"

There was a loud snicker from the back of the crowd, and Draco could see who it was without even trying. That flaming hair was a dead giveaway every time. The Weasel had the nerve to laugh at him. That did it. He was out of here.

"Sir?" Draco ignored the worried glances of his fellow Slytherins and stared directly at Professor Flitwick, who was covering for Professor Snape. "I need to visit Madam Pomfrey."

The Professor shot him a skeptical look, seemingly checking him over. Apparently Draco's reaction to the potion had been quite strange, however, as he nodded at the blonde and made to hush the rest of the class.

Draco pushed his way out of the dungeon, feeling very embarrassed. "Stupid potion and its stupid lack of perfection. Should have poured it into Potter's pumpkin juice," Draco muttered incomprehensibly to himself as he made his way to the Slytherin common room; he had no intention of going to see Madam Pomfrey. She would only pump him full of other equally foul potions.

Making sure to keep as quiet as possible - there might have been somebody lurking nearby, Filch perhaps - Draco opened the door to his dormitory and was surprised to see a figure lying on the bed. Lying under his sheets. His bed.

"Hey!" he shouted, feeling himself begin to lose his temper once again. "Who are you, and what the hell are you doing in my bed?!"

Expecting to see Pansy's head pop out from under the green duvet, Draco was more than surprised to see his own face grinning back at him.

"Hello," it purred, smiling in an entirely unnerving way. Draco was sure that his mouth was hanging open in an unflattering manner, but considering who happened to be watching him, he didn't notice. He was used to every one of his facial expressions, having practiced them in the mirror more than a few times.

Suddenly, Draco was hit with the knowledge of what had happened, the feeling quite similar to being smacked in the face with a tennis racket. The potion had worked! He now had a body double, a clone, an official Draco Malfoy look alike. The feeling of having his still-beating heart ripped from his ribs must have been his personality separating. This theory also seemed to explain the tinnitus, although he wasn't sure why. Things just seemed to fit into place.

"So..." Draco number one began, searching for the right words to express his thoughts. "You're my clone?"

Seeing the look on the other Draco's face turn to one of disgust, he wondered what had happened to his way with words. He tried again. "I mean, uhh..."

"Yes," the second Draco stated simply, cutting him off. "I guess you could call me your significant other." His right eyebrow rose in a very suggestive way. Draco decided to ignore it.

"So. What can you do?" At this, Draco's double grinned. "I mean, uhh... are we the same? Do you have my memories?"

"Well, we have all our old memories, yes. And if you meant to ask if we both have the same skills, then I'm afraid not. When we separated, so did some of our traits."

Draco frowned. "What good is that?! How am I supposed to torment Potter if I've lost the ability to sneer?"

"Or string together a coherent sentence," the Draco in bed added, sniggering at his own remark. He received a scolding frown from his partner.

"This isn't funny. I've just wasted time, effort and a large slice of my dignity on this worthless spell. And I came out with the short straw: you're the one with all the brains."

Silence filled the room as both boys pondered the situation, Draco scowling slightly at his bad luck. Then, slowly, Draco number two said: "Well, the spell isn't completely wasted."

Draco frowned as he considered this remark. "What do you mean?"

"I'm naked under here."

Once again, silence reigned.

"...O-kaaay..."

"Do you not see where I'm going with this?" Draco number two winked lazily and smirked.

"Well, yes, I was just informing myself that I obviously got all the tact. And sanity."

A sigh. "Come on, I know how narcissistic you can be. I'm you, remember? I know exactly how you look at yourself in the mirror, how you love to-"

"Yes, well, it doesn't mean that I'll-"

"But it's just the same as mastur-"

"Only more like ince-"

"No." The two boys stared at each other. "Fine. If I can't convince you, then just come and sit down next to me, I'm sure you're not at all comfortable standing like that."

Draco left it a few seconds before asking, "Do I look stupid?"

"I never said you were stupid. Look, I'm not going to do anything - don't you trust me?"

"Well... okay. But you can tell me how to reverse the spell: it seems you got my brilliant short term memory."

He sat down on the edge of the bed, kicked his shoes off and turned to face the other boy. Before he could act or do anything to resist, his lips were caught in a frantic kiss and then released again. His other half was grinning at him like the Cheshire cat.

"It's in the book. Page seven. Reversals."

Draco's mind swam for a few moments before he acted. And when he did, it wasn't in the way that he would have expected. He ran one hand through the other boy's blonde hair and grinned right back at him.

"Who says it needs reversing right away? I'm sure we can both find a use for each other. You know, double the fun."

And one of the Dracos - neither boy was quite sure which - pulled the duvet over both their heads and sealed the deal with another kiss.