Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Junkies	By : goldhorse Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 134120 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 20
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise. JK Rowling does. I make no money doing this. I just do it to keep the plot bunnies from strangling me at night.

Chapter List
- 1-Junkies
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-17
- 18-18
- 19-19
- 20-20
- 21-21
- 22-22
- 23-23
- 24-24
- 25-25
- 26-26
- 27-27
- 28-28
- 29-29
- 30-30
- 31-31
- 32-32
- 33-33
- 34-34
- 35-35
- 36-36
- 37-37
- 38-38
- 39-39
- 40-40
- 41-41
- 42-42
- 43-43
- 44-44
- 45-45
- 46-46
- 47-47
- 48-48
- 49-49
- 50-50
- 51-51
- 52-52
- 53-53
- 54-54
- 55-55
- 56-56
- 57-57
- 40
- 41
- 42
“Ready?”
Draco nodded and handed Hermione her beaded bag. “You really need to consider a new bag.”
She smirked. “Why? This one serves its purpose.”
He rolled his eyes and stalked out to the whomping willow. “You and your sentimental notions.”
She chuckled and threw her cloak over her. “I like my bag. It’s saved your arse more than once.”
He sighed and shook his head. “Come on. We’ve got a date with a basilisk.”
She grinned and levitated a stick to depress the knot on the tree. It froze and they climbed down the tunnel. At this point, they could have just walked to Hogsmeade but they had a hunch.
“Ah, young ones,” Ferdinand greeted as they made their way through the house. “Out on another adventure, are we?”
“Yes,” Hermione said. She smiled when she noticed Lavender in the corner. “Having a good time?”
Ferdinand laughed. “The best. I do hope that you will return in better shape than before.”
“That makes four of us,” Draco said with a small smirk. “I hope we’re a little better prepared for this one.”
Ferdinand hummed and nodded, pulling Lavender out of her corner and into his arms. “Well, my offer still stands. Should you need help, simply shout.”
“Thank you,” Hermione said, nodding her head in respect. “We’ll see you soon.”
They set out into Hogsmeade and stopped in at the apothecary for a few last minute items.
“Can I help you?” the shopkeeper asked.
Draco turned and eyed the crotchety old man. He was stooped with curled gnarled fingers and stringy white hair stuck up in tufts around his head. His eyes were huge but a bit hidden under large bushy brows and he had ears that would rival a house elf’s. Hermione thought he looked a little like Nosferatu with hair. He even had super long fingernails and jagged teeth.
“We need some mandrake juice,” Draco said, casting a critical eye around. “Made from only the most mature plants, of course.”
The shopkeeper’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I don’t sell drugs here, boy.”
Draco sniffed. “I can find much more pleasant ways to get stoned than drinking putrid plant juice. I need it to brew. Do we have a deal or do we go somewhere else?”
The shopkeeper sniffed. “You don’t have the money.”
“Try me,” Draco said, his voice pitched low and deadly.
“What’s your name boy?”
“Malfoy,” Draco said slowly.
The shopkeeper paled. “No.”
“Yes,” Draco said, straightening up a bit. “Now do we have an understanding or are we going somewhere else?”
“Aren’t that many apothecaries that carry it,” the shopkeeper murmured.
Hermione harrumphed. “Well, then I guess we’ll open up the first one here.”
Draco smirked and did his best Snape sneer. “Indeed.”
The shopkeeper spluttered. “I beg your pardon!”
“You heard her,” Draco said, trying desperately not to chuckle. “If you can’t supply what we need, then we’ll open up a shop and do it ourselves.”
The shopkeeper’s pasty pale skin turned bright pink with anger. “Then why bother coming here at all?”
“We’re in a bit of a hurry today,” Draco said. “And the longer I’m in here, the more I’m thinking that it will be my very last time.”
The shopkeeper huffed and spun around, quite spry for his state. He disappeared in the back for a mere moment before returning with four small bottles of mandrake juice. Draco eyed each bottle, carefully blowing cobwebs off of them and checking the color. He scooted three forward and motioned for the shopkeeper to take the fourth away. It wasn’t green enough, meaning that it was made from immature stock. That might be great in a potion for paralyzed patients, but they needed something strong enough to counteract a basilisk stare.
“We’ll need to test it,” Hermione said, eyeing each bottle.
The shopkeeper spluttered. “You’d think I’d sell you colored bubble juice?”
“You haven’t made a great impression so far,” Draco drawled. “Crack the lids.”
“Not until you buy,” the shopkeeper said. “I’m not ruining three bottles of good mandrake juice.”
“Then you aren’t worth your salt,” Draco said simply, brandishing his wand. “A simple preservation spell will keep the juice viable.”
The shopkeeper muttered fiercely but obliged, cracking open all three vials. Hermione stepped forward and wafted the smell towards her. The first smelled a bit sour and she wrinkled her nose. It would be okay, but not quite reliable enough to drink straight. The other two had a musky smell that reminded her of hours of repotting the little beasts in the greenhouses. She had to fight down a smirk when she remembered Ron’s squeal when one of the baby mandrakes bit him.
“We’ll take these two,” Draco announced, scooting the third away. “You’ll need to use that one within the next week unless you want to pour it out.”
“You’ve ruined it by opening it!” the shopkeeper hissed.
“It would be bad in a week anyway,” Hermione said with a frown. “Smell it.”
The shopkeeper grumbled but smelled the vial anyway, his eyebrows furrowing when he drew it away. “What is that?”
“Moss,” Draco said after he’d taken a whiff. “Someone didn’t wash the mandrake off well enough before juicing it.”
“Who could blame them,” the shopkeeper grumbled as he recorked the vial and dated it in spidery handwriting. “Little bastards have teeth like razors and aren’t afraid to use them.”
Hermione giggled then, unable to stop herself. Draco allowed her a small smile before taking out a bag of galleons.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
“That was highway robbery,” Draco snarled as soon as they’d apparated to the small town alley they were supposed to find the basilisk house in.
“Next time, we’ll nick some from Slughorn.”
He sniffed. “He was out. Bastard sold all the stock from our second year for candied pineapple and liquor. I swear McGonagall lets him get away with murder.”
Hermione chuckled. “Who else is she going to get to teach potions? There aren’t a whole lot of potion masters out there anymore, especially ones who would consider a teaching position with inferior pay.”
“Master would be a great choice,” he muttered. “But that’s not going to happen.”
She sighed and nodded. “At least we’ll be able to learn.”
“True,” he said thoughtfully. “And he can always teach our children.”
She stopped dead in her tracks and gaped. “Our children?”
He smirked. “I thought that was the deal, Granger. You wanted kids. I offered to knock you up since our Master can’t.”
She clamped her mouth shut and shook her head. “You’re incorrigible.”
He winked and walked down the road towards the house. She rolled her eyes and followed him, her mind in turmoil. She had expressed the desire to have children, and she still wanted them. Just… no time soon. And Draco had offered. It wouldn’t really be that far-fetched. They were already… familiar… or something like that. Their children were bound to be brilliant… and probably not bad looking. She mentally smacked herself. She should be thinking about surviving the night, not children years or even decades in the future.
“I think this is it,” Draco called.
She pulled up short in front of a dark grey house that looked like something out of a muggle horror movie. It was extremely tall and narrow, a little angular, and definitely gossamer which was probably due to a hundred different desperate wards put up to contain the slithering beast inside. She hadn’t even realized they were so close. She mentally smacked herself again and decided to put her thoughts away. This house had a very foreboding feel and as promised, every possible window and peephole had been boarded up to prevent accidental deaths. They’d be eaten alive if they weren’t on their toes.
“Master said to send a patronus,” she muttered, brandishing her wand. “Have you managed one yet?”
He grimaced. “No. Not enough happy memories I guess.”
She nodded, careful to keep all traces of anything resembling pity or sympathy out of her facial expression, and cast. Her wispy little otter sprang out and frolicked around them for a moment before standing up on its hind legs to accept its orders. She told it to announce their arrival to the owner of the house. It nodded and vanished.
“Now we wait,” he said, eyeing the house. “This place reminds me a little of that haunted house in that film you took me to see.”
She nodded in agreement. “I doubt it’s crawling with ghosts though. They tend not to fare so well with basilisks. They can’t die, but…”
“How long did Sir Nicholas take to straighten out?” he asked curiously.
She pursed her lips. “Months.”
He sighed and began carefully stretching, trying to limber up for what would no doubt be a battle. “You didn’t happen to find a weasel since I last asked, did you?”
She huffed. “You try finding a weasel in the forbidden forest during breeding season.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and began nervously braiding his long hair. “Well, no third back up plan then. I hope the mandrake juice is satisfactory.”
“And that the bloody sword doesn’t disappear,” she muttered.
“At least Slughorn didn’t sell the fucking phoenix tears,” he said as he began wrapping his hair into a tight knot to keep it out of the way. “Then again, Master did hide them rather well.”
Hermione hummed and decided to put her hair into a tight bun. “I’m not so sure it was the hiding place as much as the fact that Slughorn is a lazy sloth.”
“Perhaps both?”
The teens spun around, a spell on their lips. The man who had spoken was thin and wiry with a long silver beard that sort of reminded Hermione of Dumbledore. He had his hands up in surrender and a smirk on his lips. He waited until they relaxed their stance before he reached into his robes and pulled out a silver key that faintly glowed.
“You two are fast. I’ll give you that,” the man said. “I hope it’s enough.”
“How many has he killed?” Draco asked.
The man’s face twisted into a sad grimace. “My partner was the first. He was in the lab when the bloody bastard broke out. He couldn’t tell anyone of course, died instantly. The beast was able to get one of our lab assistants and my partner’s niece. She was only 12.”
Hermione watched sympathetically as the old man tried to compose himself. When she thought he’d be okay, she cleared her throat. “You’re keeping the same terms?”
The old man nodded. “If you kill him, he’s yours. You handle transport. If you die… there will be no proper funeral, but I’ll let your Master know. I’m sure he’d feel it anyway, but I know that if my pets were to die, I’d want to be told in person.”
“Thank you,” Draco said quietly. “Are the wards keyed to your signature?”
“No,” the old man said, his voice gravelly from pain. “I didn’t even have time to think about it. I cast and ran. A simple finite should make most of them fall. This key will open all of the doors regardless. I just thank Merlin that I live in a muggle neighborhood. I couldn’t imagine what would happen if some wizarding kids came and broke the wards on a prank.”
“Well, it’ll soon be over,” Hermione said, trying to offer the man a modicum of comfort. “Do you have any advice or tips about the layout?”
The old man ran his tongue over his bottom lip nervously. “The house is a simple two story Victorian. Bedrooms are on the top floor with one loo, kitchen and the rest on the ground. Rooms are small and angular with plenty of nooks and crannies to hide away in. There are hidden rooms behind bookcases and secret stairwells and other lovely little tidbits the last muggles thought were interesting. I’ve enchanted them to reveal themselves with a faint blue glow when called upon. The incantation is revelet Deus absconsa tua with a quarter twist and a flick. Pipes are insane in both design and layout. That snake is way too big to navigate them but there is no telling if he’s been able to break through the enchanted glass to free the others. They were all much smaller, one no longer than your arm, so keep a sharp eye. Should you run afoul and manage to survive, there is a bottle of phoenix tears in the lab in the basement.”
Draco’s eyes narrowed. “How many others are we talking about?”
The old man sighed. “There were five in total, three males, two females. The one who broke free is the oldest female. You can have the others as well, if you manage to kill them. I don’t think I’ll be able to carry on after… well. Good luck to you both. Send up a puff of white smoke if you succeed. I’ll give you until sundown. I doubt anyone could survive longer.”
“We’ll see you soon,” Hermione said and watched as the old man spun and hurried away at a surprising pace.
“Well,” Draco said, taking the hideous jewel encrusted glasses the twins had invented for them out of his robes pocket. “I suppose there is no time like the present.”
Hermione took the offered pair of glasses and stood up on her tip toes to give Draco a scorching kiss. She pulled away with a sheepish grin.
“For luck.”

AN: So... my computer keyboard broke. I had to ship one in from over seas...which took forever. And then I had to install it, which sucked. And the whole time it felt like someone chopped off my arms! Sorry guys. I'll try to be quicker with the updates. As always, thanks for all the reviews. I hope I haven't lost anyone. Keep them coming and let me know how I'm doing. Until next time.. love you guys!!!
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Junkies