Harry woke up first. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking away sleep grime and becoming aware of his surroundings. The room--if it was a room at all--was dimly lit and resembled a dungeon. The ceiling was made of gray stone, and as he turned his head experimentally, he also noted that the chandeliers on the walls were pretty dusty.
He remembered playing chess with Ron (he'd been beating him by 5 points), but remembered nothing else. He rolled over, and groaned, still groggy from magic-induced sleep. He saw Ron on his left, starting to stir from his own slumber.
'Ron?' he croaked out, his throat feeling like a muggle medieval wheat grinder.
His red-haired companion was blinking his eyes open now, and twisted his head to meet Harry's voice.
'Bloody hell.'
'You got that right, mate,' said Harry, attempting to get up. He achieved it halfway, but fell back against the cold dungeon floor when a wave of dizziness hit his head like a troll's club.
'Harry, what do you reckon happened to us?
'I mean, we were just playing chess and I was winning, and--'
'What are you talking about, Ron? I was beating you by 5 bloody points! But that's irrelevant. Where are we and what are we doing here?'
'I dunno. You-Know-Who can't've come for you in Hogwarts, could he?'
And then both boys heard a creak on to the right, and the room suddenly brightened with the light. They turned as quickly as it was possible at the moment, and squinted at the intruder.
'No, gentlemen, I'm not the Dark Lord, but I'm flattered that you'd think so,' grinned the Slytherin Prince, standing tall and almost regal in his dark forest green robe, wand in hand.
'Malfoy,' spat Ron, struggling to rise up, and failing miserably. Both boys were still weak from the powerful spell that Malfoy had set on them. It was merely a sleep spell, similar to the one a fictional sandman would use on children, except with more oomph.
The Prince just smirked at the two lying on the cold floor of his dungeon, and started his proposition.
'It goes like this boys. Watch what I offer you, and decide on whether you want to take up the proposition or not. After all, we're to work on House unity, aren't we? Any questions before I leave you on the floor?'
'Yeah. Fuck off,' said an angry Harry Potter, more irritated now that his scar was starting to hurt.
'Now, now, Potter. That isn't a question,' chided Malfoy. He cocked his head, chuckled at the state of his two rivals, and said, 'Get comfortable gentlemen, it's going to be a long night. Crabbe,' Malfoy snapped behind him, and a massive boy came in with a large ovular mirror. He rested it against the wall directly in front of the two boys, then retreated outside the door again. The Prince strode away from the room, leaving Harry and Ron incapable of proper movement, in the dimly lit room, alone with a mirror looking into another chamber.
Ron began to protest at the closing door, when they heard familiar noises coming from the non-reflective surface of the strange mirror.
'Oh, God! Give me more, Harry, Uhn!'
It was Parvati Patil, the girl Harry had taken to the Yule ball way back in fourth year. She was being ravished by...none other than the one and only Harry Potter.
'Mate, you didn't tell me about this,' Ron whispered to the Harry beside him, gaze transfixed on the sex scene in front of him.
'There's nothing to tell you about. This is...' he trailed off, watching himself thrust deeply into the girl. It was uncanny, how the duplicate looked like him, and rather sickening, as he thought about the circumstances.
'This is pure bullshit! That's not me. Can't be me. I'm right here, Ron. And this isn't a recording. Can't be. I've never been interested in Parvati, and--'
'Shut up,' interrupted Ron, fascinated. He half sat up to get a better view of the full-frontal action being presented, and touched himself underneath his robes. He groaned, continuing to play with himself while eyes were glued to the mirror.
Harry felt disgusted. He felt his nether regions beginning to stir as well, turned on by the sight of Ron masturbating and his own image fucking Parvati. He turned away from both scenes, and thought of quiddich. He shuddered when Ron came, the noise joining the screams of ecstasy from Parvati. He'd never known this side of Ron, and he never wanted to witness it again. He dragged his weak body away from the mirror and his best friend, ending up in a corner to wallow in misery for the rest of the night.
Draco walked briskly. If Granger had heeded his call, if Goyle had done his job well enough, then he would get his satisfaction tonight. His father had always kept mistresses, more than half of them muggles. Not one of them would last longer than a month in time. Draco assumed this was the same way. He was just getting an early start in his career, and Granger would only be one of many to come.
Of course, deflowering the school's next Head girl was not the best move he could have chosen. He'd not known that Granger was seeking his services; nor had he known that she had been a virgin. She had reacted eagerly to his caresses, no protests whatsoever. Not much anyway. He'd have thought either counterparts of the golden trio had compromised her virtue, but that night showed that neither boy had done anything to do so.
Draco sniggered under his breath. To feel this superior over Scarhead and the Weasel... he'd let himself forget how good it felt to be a Malfoy and loving it.
If only he could find a way for the Polyjuice to last longer than an hour... The idea had come from Zabini, as a prank to pull on the seventh year Slytherin girls. A simple enough potion to have the chance to act out on a simple enough fantasy.. To this day, no living soul knew that the great Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Prince, had lost his virginity in the guise of George Weasly (or was it Fred?) to that Griffindor quiddich bitch.
It had taken a month or two to work out the details after their first taste of it (the sex, not the potion), to create a working system for their reverse prostitution club. At first, they had only about 5 boys in the game, taking turns each night to pleasure themselves with the girls they lured, but soon, they became too busy to keep the system going efficiently. So the two club Heads, Zabini and himself, decided to start recruiting more members.
They had to be inconspicuous, healthy, and pretty good at acting. A few boys were already in the process of being recruited, being taught the procedures and such. Most were from Slytherin, but a couple were Ravenclaws. Soon, the system would be running smoothly again, several girls being tended to each night rather than one or two.
The money bit was just for fun, as was most of this entire operation. His club members had to be paid. They didn't demand it, but the two thought of the club as a business rather than pleasure now, what with the steady income and the perks of being at the top. Therefore they treated their members as employees, paying them per week and assigning them tasks.
They refrained from the dirty deeds themselves, nowadays, except an indulgence here and there, perhaps once a month to let off steam. This was now the most Draco had been sexually active for months. Ever since an unpleasant encounter with Pansy during Christmas involving bad wine and mistletoe (why muggles and wizards alike celebrated the birth of some dead guy, he didn't care to know), he'd been a little more than apprehensive about the operation. What if he had to be in a perverse situation with some filthy mudblood? What if he had to play a girl? Or even worse, a Professor? A Malfoy did not do these things. So, he kept away, only overseeing the recruiting and from time to time watching one of the new boys work.
But soon, masturbating in the wee hours of the morning when all the boys were asleep got tiring as well. He got sick and tired of his own pale fingers groping and stroking his penis, and longed, as any hormone-affected brain of a teenaged boy longed, for a girl to do the job for him. And he ended up, in his own urgency, taking sixth year Vladamir's place in turning into a Weasley once again, to fuck until his brains exploded.
'And Merlin, was the girl a good fuck,' Draco thought, as he reached his destination. 'Can't wait to try it again.'
He reached into his pocket, brought out his wand, and with a tap, unlocked the door, into the observation room, which was concealed from the action room. He saw the bushy brown hair then, and smirked. It was going to be a fun night.
