Number 46: I will stop asking when we are going to make "Love Potion Number 9."

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"You ready for this?" Harry murmured quietly.

"Yep," his two accomplices chorused; equally as quietly.

Harry nodded, smiling innocently at the sharp look Hermione was sending his way. Ron, God love him, was as oblivious to the undercurrents in the room as always, and was still prattling on about the latest Chudley Cannons game. Not realizing he was talking to himself as Hermione was blatantly ignoring him to spy on Harry, and Harry had dropped back to finish his plans. Across the hall, green eyes clashed with gray. An eyebrow lifted, a nod was received, and the conversation was over.

"Enter," Snape called, opening the door to the Potions lab with a flick of his wrist. All conversations ceased. It wasn't until Snape had assigned the day's potion and the students got to work that Harry raised his hand.

"Sir?" he called out cheerfully. Snape was instantly suspicious.

""Potter."

"Well, I was just wondering, Sir, when we were going to make Love Potion Number Nine?"

The Slytherins looked up with interest; there was a love potion they weren't aware of? Was it addictive? Could it be used to control their prey… err, the hapless weak willed specimen gullible enough to consume it? Several Gryffindors clued into the sing-song way Harry had uttered the words and snickered. Snape looked baffled. "Love Potion Number Nine? Have the neurons in your brain stopped firing all together? There is not such an idiotically labeled potion on the market. Cease your foolish wonderings and resume your lesson." He glared out at the class.

Harry scratched his head, looking genuinely confused. "But, Sir," he continued, almost hesitantly. "I know such a thing exists."

"It does not," Snape denied with a sharp shake of his greasy mane.

"Oh but it does."

"Five points from Gryffindor."

"That won't make it stop existing."

"Potter," Snape ground out, completely exasperated. "It does not exist I tell you!" Harry opened his mouth stubbornly. "Tell me, Potter," he interrupted quickly, "can you produce this produce you appear so enamored with?"

"Yes," Harry replied, reaching into his robes and producing a glowing blue bottle with a flourish. "Yes, I can!"

"Ooh, "Dean murmured, eyes wide and glued to the bottle. "I've heard of that potion!"

"Yeah," Seamus agreed, equally impressed. "That's the one that was produced by Madame Rue for the bloke who'd been a flop with chicks since 1956."

"A flop with…? Oh for heaven's sake." Snape stalked forward, eyeing the bottle with reluctant interest. "What is in it?"

Harry shrugged. "Who knows?"

Neville gave Harry a wide eyed look. "You have been taking a potion you know nothing about?"

"Well," Harry said defensively, "I was a little tired in the week following the initiation of my business."

"Your business?" Daphne Greengrass looked slightly appalled that she had voluntarily entered into a conversation with Gryffindors.

"Quidditch players do it in the air," Seamus, Ron, Dean, Neville, Lavender, and Hermione chorused.

"That was you, Potter?" Millicent Bulstrode looked impressed. It was a frightening look for her. "That was clever."

Harry winked. "Thank you." He shrugged, twirling the bottle idly between his hands. "Anyways, it was a busy week, what with interest being so… peaked, and all. This helped."

Draco scoffed, eyeing the bottle with clinical detachment. As though examining the bottle from across the aisle would magically tell him what was in it. "It's probably colored water, Potter. A lackadaisical dolt like you wouldn't be able to separate a quality potion from an inferior one."

"It is too a real potion!" Harry shouted, angrily pulling the stopper from the top.

"Potter!" Snape barked. "I forbid you to drink an unknown potion!"

"Ooh," Dean said again. "It smells like turpentine!"

"Like what?" half the class chorused. Harry smirked.

"Does it taste like Indian ink, Harry?" Seamus asked excitedly. Harry shrugged, waved his arms about in a fashion that would have made Lockhart proud, and chugged it.

The class froze. Snape looked an odd mixture between horrified that he would be forced to help Harry, and fascinated to see what the results from taking an unknown potion would be. Harry supposed he now knew what lab rats felt like. He groaned, flinging the back of his wrist theatrically over his eyes. Hermione jumped up and shook Harry's shoulders roughly. "Harry! Harry speak to me!

"Yeah Harry!" Seamus jumped up as well. "Tell me; quick… is it day or night?"

"I… I don't…" Harry shook his head as though fighting through layers of dizziness. "I don't know if it's day or night!" He opened his eyes, gazing for a second into Hermione's pale and nervous face. "Hermione…." He breathed.

"Yes Har…Oommph!" She was cut off as Harry brought his lips down on hers and snogged her like it was the only thing he had dreamt about doing for years.

"Mr. Potter!" Snape roared.

"Harry? Hermione?" Ron sat down with a thump, gazing at the lip locked pair in shock.

"It's all right, mate," Dean soothed, patting him comfortingly on the top of his head. "Harry's not in his right mind. It's the potion talking." Ron nodded dumbly.

Draco reached over and picked up the potion vial as Harry finally released Hermione. The poor girl sagged, staggering backwards to land gracelessly in Neville's lap; one trembling hand fingering her lips. Draco ignored her, licking a drop of the potion off his finger. He made a face. "This is nothing more than…"

Harry jumped over the aisle and tackled him. "Oh Draco," he breathed, "I've always had a fetish for dragons." He crashed their mouths together; a hand running over and up Draco's hip to fist in his blond hair and hold him in place.

"Mr. Potter!" Snape didn't quite know what to do other than yell out Harry's name in varying degrees of shock.

Blaise Zabini stared at Draco in fascination. "How the hell does he arch his back like that?" he shook his head wonderingly. "It looks painful."

"It is," Pansy Parkinson and Tracy Davis chorused. Both girls looked up, startled at having spoken out loud. They shrugged at Blaise's substantially more interested look and went back to watching the boys.

"But I'm not a dragon," Draco gasped out; refusing to acknowledge that his hands were pulling Harry closer rather than pushing him away.

"Role playing games, baby." Harry kissed across Draco's jaw and down his throat. "Role playing games. You'd look amazing with feathers."

"Mr. Potter!" Having successfully fought his way through the clustered mass of students, Snape pointed his wand and petrified Harry. Draco whimpered before he quite remembered himself.

"That's ok, Draco," Daphne rubbed his arm. "I would have whimpered too." She turned to Dean. "So, this Madame Rue; where is her Apothecary located?"

Ron was shaking his head slowly back and forth, face completely bloodless. "Under the influence… only a potion… not kissing Hermione by choice… definitely not kissing Malfoy by choice… yep, completely drugged."

Lavender turned to Parvati and giggled. "Creevy's going to wet his pants when he finds out he missed this."

"Where," Snape shouted, completely infuriated to have lost such complete control of his class. "Where is that blasted bottle of Love Potion Number Nine!"

Neville raised his hand timidly. "I accidentally stepped on it, sir." He shivered, hiding behind a still dazed Hermione, as Snape turned the full power of his glare upon the luckless Gryffindor.

Harry, having been revived once he had been removed from Malfoy, sighed sadly. "He broke my little bottle of Love Potion Number Nine."

"FIFTY POINTS from Gryffindor for mauling another student! Draco, go directly to Madame Pomphrey; you may have ingested some of the potion." Draco nodded, allowing an extremely smug looking Pansy to lead him from the room. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for aiding in the destruction of a potentially illegal substance; and another thirty points for disrupting my class! Now, everyone, get out!"

"Sir?" Lavender asked timidly. "What about Harry? Shouldn't he go to the Hospital Wing, too?"

Snape was shaking with barely suppressed rage. "I don't care if Potter crawls into a corner and dies," he hissed. "Take him to the Hospital Wing, take him to the Headmaster, take him back to your ruddy common room. I don't care where you put him! Just. Get. Him. Out. Of. My. Sight!"

The class scattered. Harry grinned, draping a companionable arm around Seamus. "That was quite fun!"

Hermione snorted. "And only lost Gryffindor One Hundred points."

Harry nodded, turning behind him to glance at where Neville was dragging an unresisting Ron behind him. "Oi, Ron!" Dazed blue eyes locked onto sparkling green. "I promise that the only reason I kissed Hermione was because of the potion." Seamus and Dean snickered, sharing a conspiratorial look. "You're a Prefect. If I promise never to kiss her again, will you award Gryffindor One Hundred points?"

Ron nodded, looking slightly less shell shocked. "Sure, mate." Hermione gaped.

"You can't just… complete disregard for propriety… abuse of powers… eeeerrrrrrgghh!" She stormed off. "I'm going to the Library! I hate you all!"

The cheerful group continued walking towards the tower. Ron suddenly paused on the steps. "Hey Harry? That potion… well, I get that you couldn't control yourself. And I'm not blaming you! But, umm…. That potion… well, that's the only reason you kissed Malfoy right?"

Harry just laughed.