I wrote this for a prompt meme on Archive of Our Own a few months ago. I think the request was Harry under the influence of a love potion for Draco, with bonus points for the Weasley twins thrown in. Haha, s/he probably wanted a Drarry fic, but I tried to imitate J.K. Rowling's style of writing here and the Drarry just wasn't going to happen. xD
Anyway, hope y'all enjoy!
Testing Gone Wrong
Fred Weasley grinned devilishly at his twin brother and held up the vial. It was delicately fizzing with a light purple, foamy liquid, and was only about the size of his forefinger. They hadn't been able to brew a large amount of it - the unicorn hair had been too expensive for when they were still trying to perfect the formula. It had been one of their most complicated processes yet: each step had to be performed just so to form a cohesive whole. After months of experimentation, the two red-headed Weasleys finally thought they had it right.
They had brewed a love potion, and there was nothing they wanted to do more than test it.
"Who do you reckon?" Fred asked.
George glanced around the Gryffindor Common Room. They were ensconced at a corner table, with several textbooks spread out before them as a cover for their real purpose: deciding who to use as a test subject for their potion. Hermione had been coming down hard upon them, and they had to do their research and planning for Weasley Wizards' Wheezes discreetly. Things had been pretty boring lately, though, and the two troublemakers decided it was time for some action.
"Can't do it on a Gryffindor, mate," George said. "Much as it would be entertaining to see one of them go at it with a stranger... We ought to do a Slytherin."
"Yeah, suppose we should," Fred agreed. "Which one of those foul slugs deserve to get it?"
The two stared at their one, precious vial of love potion contemplatively. Although not as strong as Amortentia, it still packed quite an embarrassing punch. Unlike Polyjuice Potion, it didn't require a piece of someone that the drinker was supposed to fall temporarily in love with. Just an incantation. And it lasted a little longer, but they still hadn't decided if that was a good thing or not.
At that moment, their younger brother burst through the portrait hole, with Hermione Granger close on his heels. Fred hurriedly stowed the potion in his robes and the two bent their heads with convincing studiousness over their textbooks. If Hermione confiscated their potion now, when they were just about to use it...
Hermione wasn't paying attention to anyone but Ron, though. She was imploring the youngest Weasley boy, "You can't let him get to you, or you'll get detention like Harry did!"
"Alright, fair trade," Ron said angrily, his cheeks blazing as red as his hair.
"Ron -" Hermione reached out to grab his arm, but he jerked it out of her grasp.
"Not now, I have a murder to plan," Ron said.
Ginny, curled up nearby in an armchair and a book, looked up. In fact, Ron was starting to garner a lot of attention.
"Harry's in detention again?" she asked, her brow furrowed.
Fred and George looked knowingly at each other. Ginny still had a crush on Harry. Bit pathetic, really. Sure, Fred had had a thing for Angelina Johnson for several years, but that was different. At least he could talk to Angelina without stuttering. Totally different. Besides, Ginny was supposed to be dating some bloke named Michael Corner.
...Hey, maybe that's who they should use this love potion on.
"Yeah, and I'm about to join him," Ron snarled. "I should have never come back up here and let that bloody ferret get away." He glared at Hermione and made to storm out of the portrait hole, but she pulled on him, trying to get him to stay.
Fred and George swiftly stood up and helped to restrain Ron. "Mind telling us why Ron is acting like a fool?" George asked Hermione, who looked distraught.
She took a deep breath, her eyes wide. "It was Malfoy," she started.
"Of course," Ginny muttered, having stood to and joined them.
"He was calling names like the uncultured swine he is, and he - well, he insulted your mother," Hermione whispered. "I had to cast a full body-bind curse on Ron to keep him from attacking him."
"You should've let me," Ron grunted, trying to escape from his brothers' grasps.
"You could've gotten expelled!" Hermione said, shocked. "Umbridge is already onto us for... well, the D.A. She knows you're Harry's best friend, and would love to punish you just for that."
"I don't bloody care, Hermione," Ron said.
"But why is Harry in detention?" Ginny pressed.
"I didn't think to immobilize him," Hermione said. "He, um, broke Malfoy's nose."
"Stupid git fought with his fists," Ron said. "He could've at least stunned Malfoy. Or given him bat-bogeys."
Ginny moaned, while George clicked his tongue in sympathy.
"What about Umbridge? Don't tell me she saw it?" Fred asked, wondering if it was possible to give this potion to their dearly beloved teacher.
"No," Hermione answered, and her relief was still evident in her voice. "But McGonagall did. Harry and Draco both have detention."
"And so will I," Ron claimed.
"Ron!" Hermione said, exasperated. "You're lucky McGonagall thought it was Malfoy who had body-binded you and that he got detention too. Can't you just leave it at that?"
"No-" Ron started.
"Have no fear, little brother," George said loudly, cutting across him. He looked at Fred, who patted his breast, where the love potion was stored, and winked. "We'll punish dear Draco. We were looking for this opportunity. You'll get your revenge."
Ron stared for a moment, and then his face broke into a wide grin. "Seriously? What are you going to do?"
Hermione looked at the twins in consternation. "Yes, what are you going to do?" she asked pointedly.
Fred smiled, and there was definitely something devilish about it. "An artist never reveals his secrets."
Harry Potter sat back on his haunches and wiped his sweaty brow. He had tried to entertain himself while doing his menial task by planning out D.A. lessons, but he already had the next three weeks minutely detailed. His mind kept returning to the injustice of this. If he could have gotten away with it, Harry would have aimed a curse at Draco Malfoy. The only bright side was that Draco was livid. Harry, after living with the Dursleys and being forced to do the the menial chores was at least used the this type of manual labor. Draco, however, had never in his spoiled, pampered existence had to scrub down anything.
They were supposed to be cleaning the four house tables in the Great Hall. McGonagall said that this was the job for the house elves, but since Harry had insisted he fight like a crude muggle, he would clean like one. She had forbidden them the use of their wands, and Harry decidedly missed it. It would have been so easy to blast these stains into nothing. Not that he knew a spell for that...
Draco was across the room, furiously scrubbing the Hufflepuff table and muttering under his breath, "Wait till my father hears about this."
Draco had taken the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff table to do. Harry didn't know why he had at first, but now he did. The Slytherins must be the messiest house. Their table was filthy. No wonder Draco hadn't wanted to clean it. So Harry was stuck wiping Slytherin gunk.
Just another reason to hate Draco.
At least Draco didn't attempt to speak to Harry. McGonagall had taken their wands, so it's not like he could use that to threaten Harry. The white-blonde Slytherin had also experienced Harry's fists. Madam Pompfrey had mended Draco's nose with one incantation, but he seemed wary of provoking Harry to anger without his wand.
Harry guessed that after a summer of watching Dudley beat up others, he had picked up a few moves. It would be a lie to say Harry didn't have a faint sense of pride in having broken Draco's nose.
It was the only good emotion Harry had. He was even hungry. Harry had been returning from a strenuous potions lesson when Draco had starting to mouth off. After having to deal with Umbridge, Harry was nearly done with everyone's crap. It hadn't taken much to make him snap. But he had missed dinner while getting chewed out by McGonagall, and his stomach seriously regretted it.
Harry sighed, shot a scowl at Draco, and continued to scrub.
"You reckon Malfoy will eat it?" Fred asked, tipping the love potion into a goblet of water.
"He's a stupid git. Why not?" George shrugged, watching as the house elves swarming around them gathered a meal to tempt Draco Malfoy. Dobby was especially enthusiastic. He alone knew what they were planning to do to his old master. George figured Dobby must be getting better. Used to, he would have impaled himself on a broomstick at the slightest mention of harming Draco. Even now, he had gotten a wide look in his eyes, and he had spasmed, but then Dobby had grinned wildly and squeaked, "Dobby thinks it's brilliant, Master Fred, Master George."
"Blimey, imagine having to clean all those tables by hand," Fred said, shaking his red head.
"This should cheer Harry up," George said brightly, placing the goblet with the potion on Slytherin's table. "Let's sneak back up and see Draco in action."
Harry grunted as he scraped off a hardened piece of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. Judging from how much of it there was, it was tradition for Slytherin's to use the underside of their dining table to stick their gum on. This particular piece was so concrete, it had probably been placed there during Voldemort's time.
He picked it up gingerly, and moved to throw it away in the wastebin on the bench. His eye caught on a meal that had appeared on the table: steaming chicken, buttered biscuits, and a small brownie. Harry glanced over to Draco, who was sitting at the Hufflepuff table absently moving his cleaning rag over the surface in a lazy, circular motion. His back was to Harry.
Was this meal for Harry? Did Dobby somehow know Harry was up here and starving and forced to clean generations worth of chewing gum?
It really didn't take him long to make a decision. Harry ravenously began to eat, hoping Draco couldn't hear him. Harry didn't intend to share his meal. It was cooked exceptionally well too. He took a long swig of drink to wash down the food, but suddenly… Harry felt strange. He didn't feel like himself. He felt like…
Draco's father was going to hear about this. That stupid woman, making him stay here for hours with stupid Potter cleaning these stupid tables like a stupid muggle… Draco had never felt more humiliated and menial. It was not a sensation he liked. Plus, his nose still hurt. Potter ought to be expelled, but no, it was all Potter this and Potter that. He was tired of it.
He heard a gasp. "Draco!"
Draco looked over his shoulder. Harry Potter, with his thin face and idiotic glasses, was staring at Draco like he had just found his new obsession.
"What are you doing?" Draco demanded, as Harry took a step forward. The look on his enemy's face was too disturbing. It was like a devoted house elf. What was going on?
Harry's face clouded. "I want to sit by you."
"Oh, my god, Potter."
Harry pouted. Draco was more frightened by this than he was of the Dark Lord.
"Can I sit by you?" Harry requested.
Draco scrambled up. "What are you doing, Potter?" he demanded again. Harry kept inching toward Draco with tiny steps.
"Please, Draco."
"Potter, this isn't funny! Stop this!"
Harry reached out his arms. "Draco," he said.
"Potter, if my father hears about this, you're a dead man!"
Harry nodded furiously. "Like Romeo for Juliet."
Now he was spouting off nonsense. "What are you talking about?!"
"I love you!"
Draco was standing on the newly polished surface of the Hufflepuff table, trying to get back from Harry. "Harry Potter, I'm going to kill you!"
Fred and George paused outside of the Great Hall when they heard the death threat yelled shrilly by Malfoy.
"That doesn't sound like he's fallen in love with himself," George whispered.
Then they heard Harry's voice, saying in a weirdly high-pitched, breathless tone, "Draco, my darling!"
Fred and George looked, horrified, at each other.
"Help, someone help!" Draco screamed.
The twins shoved open the doors before Harry could molest Draco, who was against the wall, staring with absolute horror at the approaching Harry. At the noise of Fred and George's entrance, Malfoy pushed his way past Harry and sprinted out of the Great Hall, his black wizard robes flapping in a Snape-ish way.
Harry blinked, a serene smile on his face. He looked at Fred and George, hiccupped, and then slumped in a dead faint to the floor.
Fred looked at Harry and said, "Er, d'you reckon we ought to try less unicorn hair? Seems to cause some serious side effects."