A Vial of Submission

"Where have you been?"

Draco paused in the Slytherin Common Room entryway. Blaise reclined in a sunken leather chair in front of the fire, a small black book in his lap, and raised an eyebrow at Draco.

"Verifying rumors about Potter," Draco drawled, settling himself in another chair. He leaned against the arm of his chair, propping his chin up with his hand, and smirked suggestively at Blaise.

"And?" Blaise prompted, with a decidedly non-Dumbledore twinkle glittering in his black eyes. "The verdict?" Draco raised his eyebrows in mocking surprise.

"Just how curious are you, Blaise?" Draco asked mildly, dusting imaginary lint from his trousers.

"My Firebolt for twenty-four hours, that's how much," Blaise said, a touch of bite in his voice.

Draco seemed to turn the idea around in his head, tasting it for opportunities and advantages. After a moment, he nodded at Blaise leaned forward, just barely managing to catch his book as slid off his lap. "True," he finally said, leaning back into the back of his chair, smirking. "Submissive, virgin, and fan-fucking-tastic to shag," he said, ticking the rumors off on his fingers.

Blaise's eyes widened. "Prove it," he demanded.

"Eager, aren't we," Draco murmured. "That wasn't part of the deal, Blaise. What else do you have to offer?"

Blaise looked at Draco with calculated interest. Draco waited, and finally Blaise spoke.

"Your Astronomy semester project," he said "for an experience with a Pensieve."

Draco narrowed his eyes at Blaise. "And what grade will you guarantee with your Firebolt as insurance?"

Blaise snorted. "Not all of us are as dismal in Astronomy as you, Draco." He smiled mockingly at him.

Draco shrugged. Blaise was the best in their year when it came to Astronomy. Granger would probably give one of her fingers to have Blaise's depth and breadth of knowledge of the subject. He was sure it must gall her to come second a long ways behind Blaise. Still, Blaise would fuck him over just for the pleasure of knowing he could.

"I want the highest grade in the class."

"Fuck off," Blaise said without batting an eye. "Second."

"Fine. But I don't want to tie with Granger," Draco said smoothly. He hadn't been expecting first anyway. "We'll use Severus' Pensieve," he said, standing up.

As he led the way down to Snape's office Draco wondered what Harry was doing. Harry had looked rather well tumbled when he'd left the Prefect's Bathroom. Had Granger exploded? Was Harry on his knees, begging for forgiveness? Draco remembered Harry's pleading for his forgiveness earlier and felt his cock stir.

Draco disabled the wards on the door to Snape's office and he poked his head in the doorway. "Severus?" he called. When no answer came he stepped into the office. "It's in the locked cupboard up there," he said, pointing to the small cupboard above the potions cabinet.

Draco cast a silencing charm he knew Blaise didn't know around himself before pointing his wand at the cabinet and whispering a powerful unlocking spell. He had some respect for his godfather's privacy, after all.

He carefully floated the Pensieve down to the desk; sweat beading on his forehead with the pressure not to drop the expensive magical bowl. Once it was settled, he rolled his shoulders.

"One time," he warned Blaise as he drew the memory out with his wand.

Blaise rolled his eyes.

"Alright," Draco said. "Let's go."

"You're coming with me?" Blaise asked warily. "Why?"

Draco sneered at him. "Because he's fucking hot."

The undertone of possessiveness in his voice was not lost on Blaise. Draco was possessive about practically everything he owned, and even those things he didn't own, which Blaise supposed was the category Harry Potter fell into.

"I'm going first," Blaise said, striding over to the Pensieve and bending over until his face touched the liquid. Draco looked around the room once more to make sure no one was coming and then joined Blaise in the memory.

He had taken them to the point just before he had surprised Harry in the bookshelves. Once again he appreciated just how sly he had been to send Crabbe and Goyle to find a student to intimidate. Blaise stared, absorbed, as Draco's memory self grabbed Potter. Blaise stepped closer, drinking in Harry's trembling form and dazed eyes.

"Bloody hell," Blaise whispered.

"Mmm," Draco agreed.

"Bloody hell!" Blaise repeated. "He just followed you?" He stared disbelievingly at Draco for a brief second as they followed Harry and Draco's memory self.

"Obviously. Now watch."

"Eager, aren't we," his memory murmured. When Harry gasped his reply Draco saw the bulge in Blaise's trousers. Draco smirked, undeniably pleased. He had been Potter's first. He would be the one Potter would compare everyone else to. His cock grew heavy, and he could feel how intensely he was aroused.

As Draco began to grind Harry against the wall Blaise's breathing grew more ragged. Both boys slipped their hands into their trousers when Draco's memory self began to fondle Harry. When Harry stripped Blaise swore and unbuckled his trousers, his eyes swimming with lust as he pumped his cock.

"Don't come yet," Draco said, his voice rough. "Watch." Draco unzipped his trousers, his cock straining against his underwear. He rubbed himself over the material, not wanting to come before his memory had. He knew he could've fucked Blaise, but he didn't want to. As he stroked himself, watching his memory slam into Harry and hearing the smaller boy whimper and pant, Draco admitted to himself what a letdown anyone else would be after Harry.

"Who do you belong to, Potter?"

"Y-you."

Blaise groaned. "Fuck, Potter," he said between clenched teeth as he stroked himself.

"D-don't st-op," Harry pleaded, pushing his hips in rhythm with Draco's thrusts.

"Oh gods, he's begging," Blaise cried, squeezing his cock. He moaned, as he cradled his balls with his other hand. "Fuck, fuck, oh gods, somebody fuck me."

Draco was deaf to Blaise, solely concentrated on the sounds Harry was making. He wanted Harry, now. When Harry called out his name as he came, Draco's mind went blank as his own orgasm shuddered through his body.

Panting heavily, he watched himself come inside Harry, whose legs were trembling under the strain of holding himself up. He watched as his memory self collapsed onto Harry, his breath coming out in harsh gasps. Harry's legs finally gave way, and Draco had to catch him so that he wouldn't fall.

Blaise laughed in dazed disbelief, and Draco flicked his eyes briefly at him, before turning back to watch Harry. He remembered being reluctant to pull out of Harry's hot, tight arse, and Harry whimpered in exhaustion as he did.

"Can I have him?" Blaise asked suddenly.

Draco snorted but didn't turn around. "No."

"Oh, so he's yours now?" Blaise sneered.

"If you try to take him from me, Blaise, I'll kill you." He looked over his shoulder, a dangerous look in his eyes, and gave Blaise a cold, mean smile. "He's mine." It was his last warning.

"Sharing is caring, Draco" Blaise said dryly. "Bloody hell, fine. What are you going to do with him now? Does he even know he's yours?"

Draco's smile lost its edge and he cocked an eyebrow at Blaise while he did up his trousers. "I think he's rather well aware of the fact that he's mine. Or weren't you paying attention?" he asked with wicked amusement.

"Where are you going now?" Blaise asked, watching Harry and Draco approach a portrait of Lady Bahiya, a famous duelist during the fourteenth century. She was fanning herself and gave Draco's memory a saucy wink.

"That wasn't part of the bargain," Draco said silkily. "Time to go." He gripped Blaise's arm and they tumbled out of the memory and into reality.

They had just come out of the Pensieve when Draco heard a dreadfully familiar clicking of boots on the floor echoing through the hallway. Both he and Blaise froze, staring at each other in horror.

"Shite," Draco breathed. For an instant, he toyed with the idea of stunning himself with Blaise's wand and claiming that Blaise had forced him to take Blaise into Snape's office, use the Pensieve, and had then stunned Draco.

As if Blaise knew what he was thinking he shook his head. "Bloody hell," he hissed. "What are we going to do?"

"Hide," Draco said grimly.

"But the memory, the Pensive, the wards!" Blaise spluttered.

"No, you hide. I'll take care of this." Blaise looked around frantically for a hiding spot. But Snape was not a frivolous man and did not have any suitable furniture that would hide a desperate Slytherin. Snape's footsteps grew louder, and louder.

Blaise had a burst of inspiration severely lacking in Hufflepuffs and transfigured himself into black three-legged stool.

Draco blinked.

"Draco."

He looked up, and in the doorway was a rather surprised Potions Master. Draco smiled weakly, still rather stunned at Blaise's brilliance.

"Good evening, Severus," he said.

Snape looked pointedly at the Pensieve. "I...had a memory I had to look at," Draco explained. He silently applauded himself on having the forethought to not try to lie to the man considering Severus could smell a lie faster than he could take points from Gryffindor.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Do I even want to know?"

"No, not really." At least in this he didn't have to cut corners. He pushed the tip of his wand into the Pensieve and drew out his memory. The silvery strand dangled from his wand for his moment before he pressed the tip against his head. He tingled for a moment while the memory swam around, looking for its niche. Once it settled he blinked rapidly.

Snape was looking rather closely at the stool. Thankfully, though, a shadow concealed most of Blaise.

"Is that yours?"

Draco tried not to look at the stool as though it were anything more than a stool. "I brought it," he said carefully. "Thanks, though, Severus, for the Pensieve. Damn useful. Sleep well. See you in class tomorrow." Gods, he was babbling. He floated the Pensieve back up to the cabinet and nodded at Severus as though nothing were out of the ordinary and grabbed the stool, forcing himself to walk, not run, out of his godfather's office.

TBC

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