Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize.

Summary: AU Year 6. Ever suspicious of Draco, Harry finds the Slytherin smoking an illegal drug called Dragon's Breath. Student's slowly show up one at a time to pass the magic bong and bond. Total comedy.

A/N: I guess this needs no explanation. The summary says it all. This is to be taken light heartedly, not seriously. I do not recommend anyone using drugs to get closer to their fellow man. Just say no, kiddies.

"The Bong between Us"

Malfoy was definitely up to something.

Harry abandoned his fork in a plate of eggs and stared across the Great Hall at the Slytherin Prince. The morning mail had just arrived moments earlier. While the rest of the Gryffindor table was discussing what their mums had sent them or the headlines on the front of the Daily Prophet, he was watching Malfoy examine a most particular package that had dropped in front of his table setting.

Draco gazed at it in wonder, taking no notice of the eyes upon him or of his own queer behavior. He picked up the oddly shaped parcel and ran a hand over its long, paper covered base. Then Malfoy did something extremely uncharacteristic—he smiled. It was not a haughty smirk but a surefire grin spreading from ear to ear. The expression of joy was not unlike that which he often wore after torturing a group of first years, Hufflepuffs if he was having a good day. Harry had never seen him so unbearably happy.

Yes, indeed, the package had to contain some sort of muggleborn/half-blood killing device. These words must have left Harry's mouth for suddenly several pairs of eyes lifted to meet him.

Ron shrugged. "He's an evil prat. Could you pass the sausages, mate?"

Harry shoved the plate at his friend, frowning. "I'm serious!"

The Weasley's eyes widened, and he whispering out the side of his mouth, "Hermione, it's worse than we expected. He's calling himself. . ."

"No! That's not what I'm talking about," Harry snapped. "Malfoy! Has no one been paying attention to Malfoy. He's obviously planning something evil, and none of you will hear me out."

"Harry," Hermione touched his arm with a worried expression on her face, "don't you think you're being a bit paranoid?"

"Paranoid? Paranoid? All that we've seen him do this year alone, and you think I'm being PARANOID!" Harry fumed.

"Shhhhh," Hermione hissed. "People are watching. They'll think you're mad, Harry."

"How could they not? My best friends don't even believe me." Harry looked up suddenly. Malfoy was gone, as was the object he revered so much. "Where did he go? The bugger's getting away!"

"Away with what, Harry?" Hermione asked.

Harry didn't answer. Instead, he stood up, quickly surveying the Hall before running toward the closest exit. He had to find Malfoy. Rock solid evidence of Draco's horrific plans would soon be his, and then who would they call paranoid?

He turned a corner, his eye catching the tail of a robe. Harry had caught sight of the other wizard running toward . . . the Astronomy tower?


"Soon, soon, my precious," Draco whispered, holding the package tight against him as he took the tower's stairs two at a time. So engrossed with the object was he, that he did not even hear the clomping sound of footsteps following him. He stroked the beauty in his arms lovingly.

"And I won't share—I absolutely will not share!" he hissed. Last time he had gotten away, a few of the other Slytherins had followed him into the dungeons and begged to take part. Why did he always find it so very easy to 'share' after he'd taken the kiss?

"I minor side effect," he assured himself. Then, with a dopey smile, he added. "Once I've burned, I'd probably even share with the stupid Golden Boy."

He reached the top in less time than he had ever in the past. Taking a soothing breath, he opened the door to the roof and walked outside into the semi-bright daylight. A few gray clouds were drifting overhead, whispering of certain rain, but Draco didn't care. That would certainly insure that no quidditch players would be practicing this early in the day. Also, since it was usually used for astronomy purposes, no classes would be on the roof until nightfall. He had it all to himself.

Malfoy slid against the wall so that he could look out of one of its gaps and see the school yard quite easily. Carefully, he crossed his legs and began to unwrap the object before him. The paper slid down, drifting in the surreal nature of anticipation. A moment later, it was revealed, a sight to behold in splendid jade and silver. A rounded, full body entrapped in magnificent wings formed the foundation. Then it tapered at base of the neck, forming a long, lithe tube that ended with a wide gaping mouth of jagged teeth and the furious head of a dragon.

"Oh, it's been too long," Draco whispered, pulling out a small velvet bag.

He opened it, sniffing its contents with a sigh of rapture. Suddenly, the dragon moved, one wing breaking away and held out like an awaiting hand. Draco tilted the bag, letting tiny red petals fall out of the opening onto the wing. The wing curled to hold the gift and then folded back to empty it into its waiting stomach and sealed itself. Draco pulled out his wand and tapped the body lightly. A second later, a thin wisp of pink smoke clouded at the mouth.

Draco bent down to put his mouth over the Dragon's in what looked like an awkwardly placed kiss. The Slytherin pulled back, pink clouds burling out of his nostrils. He laughed lightly.

"Oh, damn, that was nice."


Harry cocked his head, a look of confusion crossing his features. He had followed Malfoy to the roof top, but the Gryffindor still stood at the door way, watching cautiously. However, he could not keep up his spying any longer.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy," he said, amazed. "Is that a bong?"

Draco's eyes lifted, the joyful expression still present but now mixed with more glaze than a donut. "Nope," he said, his words slurred. "It's a fog machine. Care to dance?"

Harry raised a brow. Part of him felt extreme fear at the prospect having to relive his ball room training, but another piece of him was curious about the pink smoke. What on earth could possibly make Malfoy pull the stick out of his arse (seemingly)?
Fear won, of course. Strangely, it had nothing to do with the bong or possible tango lessons and everything to do with two female bodies tangled in a deadly cat fight toppling into him. He hit the ground hard, and then, in the very essence of clichés and bad timing, his world went black.

End Notes: Yes, I am aware that the first chapter wasn't too funny, but I promise it gets better. This story will only be a few parts long, so you'll learn about the effects of the drug in the next part. Do come back, and do review (I'll give you a peace pipe :).