The Amazing Illegal Wonder Potion

Chapter 14

It's destiny (just ask the slashers)

Draco stared in the mirror. He had rubbed his forehead raw, but the zits hadn't even begun to fade. It was looking as if he'd be facing the school year in a beanie.

"Damn you, Granger!" he yelled, and punched the mirror so hard that it cracked. Then he deliberately took some deep breaths, and slowly counted to ten.

"Okay," he said aloud to his now splintered reflection. "Things are not so bad. At least the dancing thing is finally wearing off."

This had been a tremendous relief. That morning, when the Weasel had yelled out his name, Draco had only half-heartedly hummed a few lines of "Oops, I did it again", and had not danced at all.

What was even better, it appeared that Snape had been temporarily hit with the same affliction, and for the time being everyone in the house was occupying him or herself with forcing him to perform Broadway classics at every mention of his name.

Draco knew now that it would wear off in a few days, but for the time being, at least, Snape was the target of everyone's ridicule, and Draco had an easy defence against the Potion Master's advances.

Needless to say, this was quite a relief.

But there was still the problem of the zits. Draco knew that he had only one chance to prove to the world, and to himself, that he was not a lousy shag. He had to conquer Harry Potter. In fact, The Boy Who Lived was becoming more attractive by the minute. After seeing him with his shirt off, Draco knew that this was somebody he had to have. And he would need to make his move soon.

"You are the best shag in the school," he told his reflection. "You can do this, Draco Malfoy. Potter, you're mine."

With that, he pulled on his beanie, and strode out of the bathroom. He was going to meet his destiny - hat on.

* * *

Sirius paced around the kitchen. Everything was finally ready. Ginny had already poured her share of the potion into a cup of hot chocolate and disappeared upstairs. Sirius briefly wondered whom the chocolate was for. When he had opened his mouth to ask, she had silenced him with "I won't ask if you don't."

They had tested the potion on Snape and it had certainly worked, but Sirius was still worried. The problem was that he couldn't be sure if using the blood of the person you were planning to enchant would not have any adverse effects on the potion. It was just his luck that the only virgin in the house happened to be Harry!

Well, there was nothing for it, now. There was only one way to find out whether the potion would work.

Harry came to the kitchen in search of a snack. Sirius had known he would - James could never go for more than half an hour without food. It was one of the cruel injustices of the world that he was able to keep such a trim figure despite eating as much junk food as Crabbe and Goyle combined.

(Sirius, of course, only noted this injustice from a distance. He himself had never been much of a dieter either, and yet still had the body of a male underwear model, even now with his forties fast approaching.)

He was ready for Harry's appearance. "Hi, Harry," he said. "If you want a snack, I just made some noodles."

"Noodles? Great! I'm starving!"

He sat down and began to eat (though perhaps "devour" is a more appropriate word) the noodles, which Sirius had so carefully prepared. For the time being, he was totally absorbed with his meal.

Sirius had added a generous helping of the potion to Harry's snack. He didn't want any more mishaps.

All Harry had to do now was look up.

He must fall in love with the first person he sees.

Sirius sat across the table, and waited apprehensively.

The kitchen door burst open so hard, that it bounced back off the wall. Had the person who opened it been slower, he would have suffered a nasty bruise. However, Draco was already striding across the room. He planted himself next to Harry, and hauled him up by his shirt. Face to face with his nemesis, he hissed, "You will not escape me this time, Potter. You will be mine."

Sirius had taken mere moments to realise what was happening, but by then it was already too late.