Draco didn't like the way that Longbottom and Potter were looking at him. Not one bit. When he glanced up from his oatmeal for the third time and they were still looking at him, he narrowed his eyes and gave them his best 'Fuck OFF' glare.

Rather than looking away, Longbottom leaned his head down to whisper in Potter's ear, and whatever he was saying made a slow grin spread over Potter's face, the look of which Draco liked even less.

If glaring wasn't going to scare them off whatever poof mayhem they were working out, then ignoring them would have to do. Draco went back to his breakfast, and certainly did not take any note of Longbottom performing the least discreet arse pinch in the history of Hogwarts.

The incident put Draco in a foul mood, and it hadn't improved by the time he showed up for his highly unjust detention with Professor Sprout. It hadn't been his fault that Weasel had bent to tie his hand-me-down Weasel footwear at the exact moment Draco's curse had gone flying, and certainly he shouldn't be responsible for random hex ricochet no matter how innocent that Second Year had been. And anyway, it wasn't as though armpit hair couldn't be shaved or anything.

Sprout's detentions were always in the afternoons too, meaning that he would have practically no time to himself between classes and Quidditch, and if there was one thing Draco needed a lot of when surrounded by hundreds of members of the lower class, it was Draco Time. Moreover, greenhouse detentions often involved dirt and touching dirt on purpose.

Sure enough, Sprout handed him an enormous terracotta pot and told him to collect the pods from the Crooning Peanut Plants the Fourth Years had been growing, and that meant digging around in, you guessed it, dirt. He stripped off his robes and laid them well out of the way, then rolled up his shirtsleeves in what was sure to be a futile attempt to keep the wardrobe damage to a minimum.

The peanut plants were already crooning softly and waving their delicate yellow flowers in a showy manner as Draco approached, which was never a good sign. They were even worse close up, tangling their fronds in his hair, and the scent from the flowers was making him rather dizzy by the time he'd worked his way through half a dozen of the damn things.

Elbow-deep in the hated dirt and fending off caresses from the incredibly tickly plant, Draco grumbled out loud that this was exactly the reason they had House Elves. And Hufflepuffs.

"It's supposed to be unpleasant," a voice said behind him, and Draco would have whirled in fury except for being trapped by dirt, so he had to settle for an over-the-shoulder nose-wrinkling. "That's why it's called punishment."

"Get lost, Longbottom," Draco growled when he'd seen who it was. He was hardly in the mood to bandy words about with anybody; he couldn't think straight when he was this dirty. "Shouldn't you be off shagging Potter or something?"

"Why, been thinking about that?" Longbottom was carrying a tray of purple seedlings, and he approached the table and set it carefully next to the pot of pods Draco had managed to collect despite being violated by the plants.

"Oh yes," Draco grunted, tugging at a particularly stubborn clump of pods, "I often amuse myself while rolling about in dirt by imagining Gryffindors in ridiculous positions." It occurred to Draco suddenly that Longbottom was hovering over his shoulder rather closely. "Can I help you?"

"Do you know what we use those for?" Longbottom asked, and he seemed to be even closer now, Draco could feel his closeness prickling the skin of his back. The warm air and the scent of the plants were making him even dizzier.

"Pepper Up Potions," Draco shifted uncomfortably under the assault on his personal space both by plant and Gryffindor. "Do you mind?"

"Only in tiny amounts," Neville informed him. Draco watched out of the corner of his eye as Neville picked up one of the pods from Draco's pot and cracked it open expertly with one hand, then dropped one of the nuts onto the table and crushed it under his thumb. The peanut crumbled readily into dust, and the scent of it in the air suddenly made Draco's nose twitch, as if he might sneeze.

Realizing that his right arm was still buried in the dirt, Draco tried to pull it out, only to find that he couldn't. Swallowing a hint of panic, Draco yanked harder, but some roots seemed to have wrapped themselves around his wrist, and the plant made its intentions very clear by leaning forward to brush his cheek with the tickly yellow flowers. Draco stared in horror for a moment while the plant rustled and crooned invitingly.

"If you're through with your little botanical moment," Draco's voice rose a few notes in what might have been panic if he weren't a Malfoy, "could you maybe do something about this plant, which is trying to molest me!"

Draco struggled harder when he saw the same smile as this morning creep across Longbottom's face as he took in Draco's situation, but the plant's grip seemed to be getting stronger if anything. Longbottom raised the thumb that was covered in peanut dust to Draco's mouth and rubbed it across Draco's lower lip. Draco was so surprised that he stopped struggling for a moment, long enough for the tingling to start.

"What..." he started to ask, licking his lip, which turned out to be a huge mistake, because now the tingle was spreading throughout his whole mouth and down his throat, and Draco felt rather warm all of the sudden, and had Longbottom been attractive a moment ago?

"Sensory stimulation, you know," Longbottom remarked casually, reaching over and undoing one of the buttons one Draco's shirt. "Makes everything a bit warm and tingly. Might as well give up struggling, if you've been breathing in the scent of that plant all this time."

He glanced pointedly down at Draco's trousers, where apparently some of Draco had been doing things of their own without him noticing. That sobered up Draco just enough to realize that something was rather wrong about this situation, but not enough that he actually did anything about it. Longbottom went right on undoing Draco's shirt buttons, ignoring his tie and leaving it to dangle over his bare chest.

When Longbottom pulled a handful of the pods out of the pot and began amassing a small pile of peanuts, Draco finally managed to permeate the haze of tingles with alarm.

"I'll.." Draco managed to force his mouth into making words. "I'll scream..."

"Go right ahead," Longbottom shrugged a shoulder. "Sprout's doing Mandrakes in the next greenhouse over."

Glancing over through the transparent walls of the greenhouse, Draco made out Sprout's shape in the neighboring greenhouse, blurred through two layers of glass, but definitely wearing huge, red earmuffs. Draco dragged his eyes back to Longbottom, who had a good-sized handful of peanuts that he was crushing between the heels of his hands, and made a real noise of panic this time. He lifted his free hand to hold Neville off, but even after planting it in the middle of Longbottom's chest, could only manage a nudge rather than the shove he was trying for.

"Oh relax," Longbottom admonished. "You'll only make things worse if you struggle. The plant likes it." He punctuated this bizarre statement by slipping his hands into Draco's shirt and running them in smooth swaths over Draco's torso. The peanut dust stuck readily to Draco's skin, sticky with sweat from the heat of the greenhouse and his fight with the plant, until he was coated in it from sternum to waist.

Nothing happened. Draco wrinkled his brow.

"Give it a second," Longbottom said, slipping out of his robes and laying them on the table without taking his eyes off Draco. "It's water soluble."

"Fu--" Draco didn't even get the whole curse out before suddenly his skin skipped tingly and went right for aflame, wrenching a series of panicked gasps from his throat. "Wh-wh..."

"Why am I doing this?" Longbottom finished off Draco's question as he began unbuttoning his own shirt. "You know us Gryffindors, seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Harry?" Draco choked out, eyes helplessly tracking Longbottom's hand as it slipped buttons loose and goddamn why wouldn't this plant let him go?!

"Oh, you noticed? So you have been thinking about us then," Longbottom murmured, that smile showing up again and it would have sent a chill down Draco's spine if his spine hadn't been currently occupied with liquefying.

"Hard to miss," Draco snarked around pants for air.

"There's the usual Draco," Longbottom laughed, slapping his arse, "suits you much better. Those lips look much better in a pout."

Draco was about to tell him exactly where his lips ought to be, and had Longbottom just slapped his arse? but before he could even begin to formulate the proper response to that, Longbottom was leaning over and kissing him firmly.

The feel of warm, wet lips rubbing against his own buzzing mouth robbed Draco of rational thought, and when Longbottom's tongue scraped along his, something vital in his panic center died a sparking, melting death, and sheer lust cheerfully usurped the controls.

Sliding his lips over Draco's jaw down to his neck, Neville turned Draco back to face the Peanut Plant, which seemed so pretty all of the sudden, and pressed against Draco's back. Draco let his head loll to the side, whimpering as Longbottom's kisses turned to nips and his hand dropped to the fly of Draco's trousers. He pulled Draco's cock free and began stroking it, and within a few more breaths the remains of the peanut dust on Neville's hand had worked it's way into the sensitive skin, making Draco moan and writhe.

Neville held on tightly, removing his hand from Draco only briefly to shove Draco's trousers down to his thighs and then to undo his own flies. Draco moaned at the loss, but when Neville's hand returned, it was accompanied by his own erection thrusting against' Draco's bare arse.

Body seemingly completely out of his control, Draco arched mindlessly forward into Neville's hand and back against his cock, and the dizziness increased until he had to squeeze his eyes shut and lean hard against Neville.

He felt Neville bite down on the exposed skin of his neck, and the few thoughts still swirling in his head turned into static as he came over Neville's hand.

Draco felt limp and unsteady when he could think again, leaning heavily against the greenhouse table and bare arse cold since his trousers were still around his thighs. Balancing himself carefully against the table, Draco yanked his trousers back up, swallowing a wince at the feel of fluid trickling down the back of his leg, and looked around for Longbottom.

He was still there, sitting lazily on the bench beside the table with his arms stretched along the tabletop, and watching Draco with a dark smile. Draco noticed that Longbottom had tucked himself away right quick while leaving Draco to deal with himself, regardless of the fact that he was obviously familiar with the plant's psychotropic effects. Draco spared Longbottom a snarl as he finally managed to right his clothes.

And a good thing too, because Sprout came through the door a moment later, telling Draco he could go and apparently noting nothing amiss about Longbottom lounging about the greenhouse in post-coital satisfaction. That told Draco more than he wanted to know about Longbottom's sexual habits, so snatching up his robes and giving Longbottom another glare, Draco escaped the greenhouse as quickly as possible.

Completely off-kilter, Draco decided against a rushed dinner and headed for the Quidditch locker rooms directly, hoping a hot shower would help wash the experience, along with some other things, off his skin.

Gryffindor had finished its practice not long before, judging by the scattered players changing in the locker room still. Draco could hear the shower, meaning at least one person was still in them, but he was willing to brave a naked Gryffindor if it meant he could clear his head. Pursing his lips in a way that meant he would sooner lick a niffler's arse than speak to any of the peons he saw before him, Draco strode to his locker and stripped without incident. Towel wrapped firmly around his waist lest any other Gryffindors get ideas today, he headed for the showers.

Only to discover that the only person still showering was Potter. Hovering in the doorway to the showers, Draco nearly turned around, cuticle dirt and all, but then Potter looked over his shoulder and had the nerve to grin at him, that little arse-monkey of Longbottom's! Draco's pride, already settled in for a good sulk, allowed no other response than to stride into the shower with head held high. Things were mercifully quiet for a few minutes while Draco rinsed the worst of the dirt from his hands and arms.

"Had a good detention with the peanut plants?"

Draco ground his teeth, hating the way Potter managed to smirk verbally, and refused to glance over his shoulder and rise to the little poof's bait. Even when the sound of bare feet slapping on wet tile meant the Boy Who Lived To Suck Cock was coming his way, Draco stared resolutely at the shower wall.

He could not, however, stop the full body twitch when fingers rubbed down his side, followed by the unmistakable sound of something being sucked off of said fingers.

"A good detention indeed, from the taste of things." Potter's voice was suddenly very close to Draco's ear. He tried to turn, but firm hands caught his shoulders and forced him back against the wall. Potter's chuckle sent shivers up Draco's spine. "Neville and his plants. It's a bit disturbing sometimes, but then again you should see what he can do with a jar of peanut butter."

One hand still holding Draco down by the shoulder, Potter dragged the other down Draco's side, fingertips with just enough pressure to set Draco's skin buzzing, and Draco clenched his jaw on a whimper.

"Hasn’t quite worn off yet, has it?" Potter leaned forward to blow into Draco's ear with each word, then traced the outer edge with the tip of his tongue. Potter was right, the warm water pattering down on Draco's body was actually reactivating some of Longbottom's damn dust, and every drag of Potter's fingers or tongue made Draco's hair stand on end.

"Fuck you," Draco managed to snarl after swallowing a few times. He tried to slip out from under Potter's hands, but Potter seized his shoulders and shoved up him against the wall of the shower, and Draco grunted as his chest and cheek thwacked into the tile. "Get off now, Potter."

"Or you'll what?" Potter asked, sounding as if he really wanted to know. "Going to struggle?" He pressed his body against Draco's back to keep him firmly in place, and Draco felt Potter's erection rub the back of his thigh while his own bumped against the cold tile. "Going to scream? That sounds rather good, actually."

Potter's hands dropped from Draco's shoulders to his sides, one sliding up across his chest to tweak a nipple, the other curling against his hip to hold him in place. Gritting his teeth and turning his head so that his forehead pressed into the wall, Draco couldn't stop a low moan from buzzing in his chest.

"That's right, go on," Potter encouraged, lips wrapping around Draco's earlobe and tugging. When the fingers on Draco's hip strayed a few inches to the right and just barely brushed his erection, Draco's back jerked straight as if Potter had yanked a string that ran the whole way down his spine. Potter laughed, biting down on the earlobe. "Careful now, it's slippery."

Dragging in a breath, Draco wanted to tell Potter exactly which orifice he could shove his concern in, but Potter chose that moment to get a good hold on Draco's prick and all that came of his mouth was a broken whine.

And then Potter released both nipple and cock and flipped Draco over so that his back was pressed against the tile, and his nose was only an inch from Potter's. Potter shook wet hair out of his eyes and leered at him myopically.

Draco wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around Potter's throat and squeeze, because nobody should be able to manage 'myopic' and 'sexy' at the same time, but fuck Merlin in the ear if Potter wasn't managing it somehow, that rat bastard. Draco's hands actually began to raise before Potter grabbed them and forced them behind Draco's back. He transferred both wrists to one hand and brought the other around to stroke Draco's cock firmly, watching Draco's face.

"This how…you get off…Potter?" Draco snarled as best he could with his panting for air interrupting every other syllable. "Attacking…people in the…shower? Aren't…satisfied with…Longbottom?"

"He has his little kinks," Harry laughed, giving Draco's cock a vicious squeeze, "and I have mine. Variety keeps a relationship alive, after all."

Before Draco could call him a pervert as well as a raging bottom, Potter dropped suddenly to his knees on the concrete with a thud that made even Draco wince, but Potter didn't seem to notice. He still had Draco's wrists trapped behind his back. Holding Draco's cock steady, Potter flashed Draco a heated grin.

"Don't forget to scream," he reminded, then wrapped lips around Draco's cock and swallowed until his lips bumped his hand.

Draco's toes curled against the tile as Harry slid his hand from Draco's prick down to squeeze his sac, because honestly it was quite impressive how far into Harry's mouth he actually was, even given all the practice Potter no doubt got, and then Harry was squeezing and sucking and licking all at the same time, and Draco threw his head back to keen and cracked the back of his skull on the tile.

"Fuck!" he groaned as stars prickled the backs of his eyes. Harry, apparently taking the curse as praise for his ability rather than the result of a head injury, hummed his approval, making the back of his throat buzz against the head of Draco's cock.

Peanut-dusted and concussed and being sucked to within an inch of his life, Draco squeezed his eyes shut to stop the room from spinning. His thighs were starting to tremble, and his shoulders were burning from straining against Harry's hold and supporting some of his weight against the wall. Draco felt like his whole body was being twisted tighter and tighter as he gave up any attempt at dignity and thrust hard into Harry's mouth.

Harry made a noise that was half-surprise and half-moan, and Draco unraveled completely as he came, a hoarse shout filling his ears that he barely recognized as his own.

Draco's legs refused to hold him any longer. One foot slipped out from underneath him, and the back of his head smacked against the wall as he crashed down the wall in a sliding plummet.

Just before things went dark, Draco thought it was a relief that at least Potter hadn't got off as well.

When Draco came to some time later, his head was pounding, his mouth was cottony, and everything, everything hurt. He opened his eyes long enough to see that he was in the Infirmary before squeezing them tightly shut and begging whatever benevolent forces there were to smite him back into unconsciousness.

After a few seconds with his eyes closed, Draco realized that the only sound in the room was a rhythmic, sucking noise that seemed to be coming from the next bed over. He had a sinking suspicion that he already knew what the noise was, but he opened his eyes and turned his head anyway, just out of morbid curiosity.

Indeed, there was Potter sucking Longbottom's cock, just as expected. Longbottom was leaning back against the headboard, trousers undone, one hand tangled in Potter's mess of hair. Potter was sprawled out on his stomach between Longbottom's legs, eyes closed in bliss, and Draco was once again surprised by the depths of Potter's cock-sucking ability. Longbottom was staring at Draco.

"He's awake," Longbottom said. Potter cracked an eye, but barely paused in his ministrations.

"Where's Pomfrey?" Draco croaked, wondering if trying to sit up might just make him pass out again.

"Dinner." Longbottom shrugged a lazy shoulder. "Potter said he'd look after you for a bit, fetch her if you woke up. Since he's the one who found you and all."

"Found me?" Irritation burned off some of Draco's haze, but none of his headache.

"A good thing he was late coming in from practice," Longbottom continued, giving a smile of complete innocence, "or who knows how long you might have laid their in the shower. You should really be more careful about wanking there, you know, those tiles are slippery."

"Slippery!" Draco choked out around his rage. "Wanking! You…Longbottom, I'm going to…"

"Do you know," Potter had lifted his lips just far enough from Longbottom's cock to join in the conversation, "that if you get him worked up enough he starts using your first name in his head?" Potter sucked lightly on the very tip of Longbottom while Longbottom thought about this.

"Really?" he asked, his hand stroking Potter's hair a little, and Draco shuddered at the implication of Longbottom actually taking Potter's statement at face value. If there was one thing that could possibly make this day any worse, it was the idea of Potter rattling around inside his head, rifling through his thoughts and getting them all sticky.

"Make this day any worse?" Potter scoffed, letting Longbottom slip out of his mouth and laying his cheek on Longbottom's thigh. Both of them were staring at Draco, and he resisted the urge to squirm. "How do you like that? He's had more orgasms than I've had today."

"You'd have had a few more if you didn't need punishing so often," Longbottom remarked, giving Potter's hair a casual yank. Potter made a soft 'mmm' noise and nuzzled his cheek against Longbottom's leg, bringing one hand up to squeeze the base of Longbottom's erection. Draco's cock had begun to stir, not immune to the sight of a languid blowjob no matter who was involved, which meant that this encounter needed to end as quickly as possible.

"Could you two kindly take your slap and tickle show elsewhere?" Draco demanded, sitting up at last, headache be damned. "I've had more than enough of your brand of fun today, and I've no interest in repeating either experience!"

Liar, his prick accused, propping itself up a little higher as though it wanted a better view of the treatment Longbottom's was getting.

"He is a pretty thing when he's angry, isn't he?" Longbottom remarked.

"Told you so," Potter replied smugly, eyes rolling a little when Longbottom gave his hair another pull. "If you weren't so keen on drugging people up…"

"Yes yes, you're very clever," Longbottom cut him off. "Now what shall we do with him?"

"I'm right bloody here!" Draco snapped, so enraged at the gall of these Gryffairydors, eyeing him up like a piece of pornography and then talking about using him, that the edges of his vision were going fuzzy.

"So you are." Longbottom released Potter's hair and gave his shoulder a firm push. "Why don't you put your lips to work on him?"

"We've already done that," Potter said dismissively, but pushed himself up to a sitting position.

"And we won't be doing it again!" Draco announced, unable to pull his eyes away from Longbottom's cock, which was still standing at attention and now had nothing blocking Draco's view. It was a rather nice specimen, and Potter had been enjoying it rather a lot…Draco struggled to cut off that line of thinking.

"Have you got something better in mind?" Longbottom was asking.

"No," Potter shrugged, then turned to give Draco the dark smile that he had come to loath in the last few hours, "but he does."

"How is he doing that?!" Draco screeched, feeling the most violated he had all day, even given the shower sex of questionable consent and being groped by a plant. Potter and Longbottom gave each other a significant look and laughed a little,

"I've got an idea then," Longbottom said, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. "Harry, why don't you make yourself comfortable over here, and you can tell me exactly what Draco wants."

Potter's eyes lit up, and he leaned forward to press a quick, open-mouthed kiss to Longbottom's mouth before scrambling up to the head of the bed to sprawl. Longbottom watched him get situated on the pillows, then stood and began approaching Draco's bed.

"That's enough!" Draco threw the blankets aside and slid his own legs out of the bed, but when he tried to stand, his knees refused to support him and the room spun. "Don't come near me!"

"He likes your prick," Potter announced, settling a little further into his pillows. Longbottom threw a grin over his shoulder at Potter while Draco spluttered indignantly.

"Why don't you just lay back down, hmm?" Longbottom asked with a knowing smile. "You have had a nasty knock on the head."

Draco struggled weakly, but couldn't stop Longbottom from pushing him back down against his pillows and climbing up beside him. He threw a leg over Draco's waist and straddled him. Draco watched helplessly as Longbottom dropped a casual hand to his still-exposed cock and gave it a lazy stroke.

"He likes that," Potter said, and Draco could hear the soft vwip of Potter's trouser zipper even though he wasn't looking. "Wants to put his hands on it. Wants to taste it."

On either side of Draco, his hands were clenched into the sheets to keep from doing anything rash until Longbottom reached down and pried the fingers of his right hand free and lifted it to his cock.

"Go on then," he said, and Draco's hand was already wrapping reflexively around the hot weight of it despite the protesting noises he was trying to make. Longbottom paused in his stroking to run his thumb through the fluid beading on his tip, then pressed the thumb to Draco's lips to silence him. Draco's tongue darted out reflexively, and his protests turned into a soft moan.

"Oh yes," Potter sighed, and whispers of skin sliding on skin from the next bed over were permeating Draco's consciousness through the haze of his own whimpers and Longbottom's grunts. "Slide up…higher. Let him get a…good taste."

Longbottom shifted up on Draco's chest until the head of his cock was bumping Draco's lips, and when Draco lifted his head just enough to let it slide just inside his mouth despite the awkward angle, Neville—oh god, Potter was right—tilted his head back and groaned.

"You're right, it's a little awkward." Draco released Neville and let his head flop to the side to see Potter sliding off the other bed and coming closer. "Slide off, Nev, let him flip over."

The whimper that Draco gave when he was being shifted onto his stomach was more from his pounding head than anything else, but when things mercifully stopped moving again, Longbottom was underneath him, and Potter was kneeling behind him.

And everyone's trousers had gone missing at some point.

Longbottom was sitting up against the headboard, and Potter tugged Draco up onto his knees and backwards until his mouth was even with Longbottom's cock.

"Suck him," Potter ordered, his breath hot against the back of Draco's neck. "He doesn't mind a bit of hair-pulling, Nev."

Draco tried to give a last protest, but Longbottom was already winding a hand into Draco's hair and pushing him down, and his cock slid deep into Draco's mouth, cutting off any further comment.

"That's right," Neville murmured, "take it all." Tightening his grip, he pushed Draco's head down and thrust up with his hips, and Draco didn't have any choice but to breathe through his nose and comply.

"God, that's fucking gorgeous," Potter commented, as Draco felt two fingers slide into the crease of his arse, fingers that didn't feel like they'd been lubricated by anything other than spit. Draco made a balking, choked noise around Neville's cock, and Potter scoffed, "Like you've never done it before."

Potter only teased him for a moment before the fingers were pressing inside him roughly, and Neville was still pulling on his hair, and Harry was crooking his fingers and making Draco see sparks, and Draco squeezed his eyes shut and moaned helplessly.

"Harry, just fuck him already," Neville gasped, and Draco could feel the tremble in Neville's thighs as he tried not to thrust hard. "Want us fucking him at either end…pushing inside him at the…same time…"

"He does too," Harry said, yanking his fingers out of Draco so fast that he whimpered, and then whined louder when Harry's cock replaced them and began to thrust inside in deep, long strokes, until Harry's legs bumped into the backs of Draco's thighs. He pulled back and gave another slow thrust. "So tight…fuck yes…ready?"

"Yeah," Neville grunted. He used his grip on Draco's hair to raise his head a few inches, then snapped his hips up at the same time Harry drove himself into Draco's arse, both of them so deep that Draco thought hazily that they must be ramming into each other in the middle.

"Something like that," Harry laughed, voice rough, giving a "Fuck!" as punctuation.

If you're so clever about what I want, Draco thought in between moans, then why don't you make yourself useful and wrap your hand around my prick?

"Since you asked so nicely," Harry grunted as he complied. Draco couldn't even spare the brain cells to wonder how the hell Harry was doing it, because he was too busy trying to decide whether to push back or forward or down.

"Oh oh," Neville moaned, jerking Draco's head down hard enough to make his eyes water, before coming in bursts down Draco's throat. Draco pulled his head up so that he could actually taste the end of Neville's orgasm, and the sharp taste pushed him over the edge as well, thrusting unevenly down into Harry's squeezing grip.

As he came down, Draco dimly felt Harry finish off inside him and slump against his back, and Draco's elbows gave out, dumping him across Neville's lap. They lay in a tangle for several long minutes, gasping for air, and Neville's fingers scratching pleasantly against Draco's scalp.

"Such a pretty toy," Neville said, and suddenly he was Longbottom again, and it was Potter crushing Draco with his weight, and Draco had just been used for the third time that day.

"Get off," he snarled with as much authority as someone in his position could possibly have. Potter giggled, jostling Draco's ribs with his elbows.

"We should be going," Longbottom reminded, pushing Draco off to the side enough that he could pull his legs out. "Pomfrey."

"Pomfrey," Potter grumbled in agreement. He slid off Draco and stood, giving Draco's ass a firm slap.

You'll pay for that, Draco snarled as he let his head collapse into the pillows. He heard Potter laugh, but didn't stir.

"Might want to clean yourself up a bit," Longbottom suggested over the rustle of trousers being tugged on. "Or at least tuck that arse out of sight. Way you look now, anybody who came in here would know you were all for the taking."

"If it's help with your wandwork you need…" Potter started, then Draco heard the fleshy thwack of Longbottom smacking him someplace, and Potter's low laugh again.

"Make yourself presentable," Longbottom ordered as they left, a touch of steel in his voice. "No one else gets to play with our toys."

Fuck you both, Draco thought.

"Maybe next time!" Potter called back, then the door slammed behind them.