A/N: Once again we meet, my lovelies. A lot of this I end up writing in Latin class, to be quite honest with you. Latin and Spanish. But you didn't really need to know that. There's a parenthetical footnote in the middle of this chapter—go to the end to see the reference.

In the morning, when my ankle hurt for seemingly no reason, I was grumpy. I gathered my things together and limped down to the prefects' bathrooms. I started a bath and dangled my foot in the hot water after stripping down, letting the heat penetrate into my ankle, soothing the pain away. Before long the bath was ready, and I slid silently into the water, my eyes rolling back slightly with relief.

I sank beneath the water for a moment before surfacing and floating in the heat for a bit. Comforted now, I swam a lap or two of the giant tub and then settled down to bathe.

Once I was clean, I pulled the plug on the bath and got out, drying off. I dressed and gathered my things, going down to breakfast. I took my usual seat and grinned wickedly to myself as Potter limped into the Great Hall.

I concerned myself with breakfast instead of Potter, choosing—without thought—chocolate chip pancakes for my meal. I munched away happily as my friends waltzed in. Pansy shook her head when she saw what I was eating, but she made no comment, taking her seat next to her boyfriend.

As soon as I finished my pancakes, I turned my attention back to Potter, who was now strangely missing. Granger was still there, but Potter and the Weasel had disappeared. I shrugged and returned to conversation with my friends until I noticed my nemesis and his sidekick come back in, grinning like fools. I scowled. They looked a little tousled, and I wondered if they'd gone off for a snog until I saw the Weasel flirting with Granger. So he was still straight as an arrow. What a sham! Even I could admit that the Weasel had himself a nice arse.

I shifted in my seat and was distracted from watching the Dream Team by the arrival of the Owl Post. I was surprised to find that three owls dropped their burdens before me. There were two boxes, the larger having a note written on it, and a letter. I opened the letter first.

Dear Draco,

My associates and I shall be holding an informal group meeting in two days' time. We would appreciate it greatly if you would be so kind as to join us. The enclosed owl feather will act as a portkey that evening. Please try not to lose it.

Sincerely,

Your beloved uncle

I snorted. Obviously the letter was from Rodolphus Lestrange, my mother's brother-in-law. He'd just broken out of prison, or so it seemed. Plus—it was his handwriting. I sighed and folded the letter back up, carefully tucking the feather back in the envelope with the epistle.

I reached for the larger of the two packages next, reading the note written hastily on the wrapping first.

Saw this (footnote) and thought of you. One size fits all charm included. Give it to your sweetie. Love, Mum

I smiled and opened the package, removing the t-shirt and grinning. That was something I'd only recently come to appreciate—the fact that my mum actually had a sense of humor.

After that, I picked up the smallest package and tore off the paper, revealing a palm-sized black box. I frowned slightly and opened it to find a set of chocolates inside. I bit my lip, suddenly feeling hungry again.

Just to be sure I was safe, I checked the box and the truffles themselves for hexes. When I found none present, I picked up one of the chocolates, scrutinizing it with my eyes. I didn't see anything physically wrong with the sweet treat, I closed my eyes and slowly bit into it, enjoying the rich taste of the chocolate. There was a hint of some other flavor that I couldn't trace, but it was certainly good.

I savored the truffle until it was gone, and when I opened my eyes, all of my friends were staring. I blinked. "What?"

"That looked like it was almost a religious experience," commented Blaise flatly.

I rolled my eyes and picked up another chocolate, popping it in my mouth. They really did taste good, but I couldn't figure out quite why. I kept on eating them until I'd cleaned out almost the whole box, leaving only a single chocolate to eat later.

That's when it happened. I groaned, gripping the edge of the table as I felt myself stiffening in my pants. Oh, Merlin, I thought, closing my eyes tightly as my head began to spin. Despite all of my care, the chocolates had been tampered with after all—filled with some kind of aphrodisiac. The erection I'd just developed hurt. I had a feeling that this one, like the ones before it, would be just as painful and stubborn as the others; that is to say it wouldn't go away. "Fuck," I growled, one hand dropping into my lap and caressing my cock through my pants.

Blaise screwed his eyes shut. "Aw! Draco! Don't do that at the table, please!" he cried.

Pansy giggled softly, covering her mouth with her hand as Crabbe and Goyle looked on stupidly—as usual.

"Fine. Excuse me," I mumbled, standing, drawing my robes around me to cover my erection as I hurried out of the Great Hall. I glared at Potter and Weasley, who were grinning and laughing with each other, their attention directed at me. That's when I realized this was Potty's revenge on me for tripping him.

I grumbled to myself all the way down to the dormitory, where I collapsed on my bed, kicked off my pants, and began stroking my cock, my eyes closed as I concentrated on how nice my hand felt as I dragged it up and down my length.

My breath came in ragged gasps as I neared my climax and with a little bit more pressure I came, spilling my seed across my hand and my thighs, soiling part of my shirt as well. I grunted and sat up, but much to my dismay, my cock was still hard and I still ached as if I hadn't just gone through that whole process. I whimpered and reached for a handkerchief I kept on my bedside table, wiping myself clean before tugging on my pants again and digging through my trunk for my wall calendar. I found it and pulled it out, flipping through it until I came to this week. Much to my dismay, I found that I was due for my next ongoing erection tomorrow.

That was lovely. Then this bloody aphrodisiac had connected with whatever part of me that caused those horrendous hard-ons, and it seemed it was going to extend the period of time during which I was out of commission. This was going to be bloody miserable.

I lay in bed trying to wank myself into a coma until Blaise came in. I poked my head through the curtains. "Blaaise," I whined.

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What."

"My bloody stiffy won't go away."

"What am I supposed to do about it?!" he exclaimed with exasperation, going to his trunk and pulling out some books.

"I don't know. But it hurts," I continued to whine.

He rolled his eyes. "Fix it yourself," he replied, walking back out.

I continued to pester Blaise about how much my erection hurt and how much I needed a shag for two and a half days. I ended up missing the "meeting" because I couldn't bear to leave the room.

For the whole time I was in agony, my mind dwelled on Potter, something in me yearning to claim that tight little arse…when I slept—fitfully, of course—Potter always seemed to be in my damned wet dreams. I couldn't stop thinking about him, and that only served to irritate me even more.

Just before lunch Blaise came in to check on me and see if I needed anything—more lube, for example. He was really fed up with the whole thing by now. "Draco?"

"Blaaise," I called, still whining. "It hurts. Make it stop!"

He made a noise of absolute disgust and threw the roll of parchment with my assignments on it at me. It missed, but I got the message. "Fine," he replied irritably. "Shag me. But you'd better be quick and shut up afterwards even if the thing doesn't go away. And you're using a fucking rubber. No choice on that."

I grinned. Blaise did swing both ways, after all. He'd come to that conclusion over the summer. Pansy wasn't irked at all—she found it rather amusing, and often asked and encouraged him to ask other men to "play" with them. I hurriedly dug in my drawer for some lube and a condom, pulling the rubber over my cock quickly and gesturing for Blaise to join me.

Obviously still resenting the fact that it had to happen between us for the first time this way, he stripped slowly and lay down on my bed. I lubed the both of us up and took a hold of his cock, stroking him gently as I readied him with two of my fingers. "Thanks for this," I said sincerely. He grunted in response, his eyes closed. I chuckled softly and shifted myself until my head came in contact with his ass.

I pushed in slowly with a groan of pleasure, my cock seeming to shout the Hallelujah Chorus from the top of its lungs as I did so. I kept stroking Blaise's cock as a favor to him as I pushed all the way in and pulled almost all the way out over and over, my hand beating in time with my hips. Repeat, repeat, repeat; my mind was on autopilot until I finally came with a jerk of my hips, my hand still going. Soon after, Blaise came, and he sighed softly, his cheeks flushed.

"Thanks," I panted, drawing out and getting out of bed, taking the condom off and carefully disposing of it. I found my wand and muttered a cleaning charm so that both Blaise and myself no longer bore any evidence of having just shagged.

It was such a relief to have my cock hanging limply! At last it was soft and not paining me. After two and a half days of agony, I was free. It had taken shagging my best friend to do it, but I was free. "Thank you so much, Blaise," I said. "I think I'd kiss you if it wouldn't weird you out." He waved away my thanks, pulling on his clothes again and combing his hair back to normal.

"Come on, Draco. Let's go down to lunch."

After we were both presentable again, we went down to the Great Hall, where I saw Potty and the Weasel actually looking guilty. I growled to myself. The whole thing had been their fault, then. I would get back at them for this one.

The thing his mother sent him is a t-shirt that reads "PRIVATE PROPERTY."

A/N: There you are, my lovelies. I hope you're intrigued. Or confused, even. Review please, I'd like to know if I'm doing anything wrong. Or if I'm doing things right.