Just a silly one-shot with the Weasley twins.


"Follow my lead," Fred murmured under his breath, grabbing George's elbow and pulling him towards the Charms class that was just being let out. Fred didn't waver once as he walked forward with purpose in his stride.

Shoulder bumped against shoulder.

"Watch it, weasel," Blaise growled.

"And flirt," Fred whispered, shoving George towards the disgruntled Slytherin.

Much to George's credit, he didn't think twice. "Allow me to apologize thoroughly for my brother's incompetency," he said with flourish, bowing low.

"Whatever," Blaise muttered.

"Don't waste your breath," Fred said dismissively.

George ignored Fred by training an intense look on Blaise. "I'm sorry," he said quietly with a soft smile.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Save it," he sighed, pushing George out of the way rudely and walking away without a backward glance.

George watched after the boy, noting the none-too-shabby body hidden under the robe. And after Blaise had rounded the corner, George whipped around at Fred, fury in his eyes. "What the fuck, Fred?" he hissed, boxing Fred's ear.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Fred winced, trying to get away. "I have a plan!"

"At least let me in on the plan, you arse," George grumbled, letting go of Fred.

"Anyways," Fred scowled, rubbing his ear that was as red as his hair, "what do you think?"

"About that?" George asked, jerking his thumb towards Blaise.

"Mhm."

"I don't think much of it," George sniffed, folding his arms against his chest.

Fred huffed. "You're no fun anymore," he whined. "Let's mess with him, yeah?"

"Why?" George asked demandingly.

"Um… Do I really need a reason?" Fred asked, arching a brow.

"I am not doing all the work this time, understand?" George informed with narrowed eyes.

"Mhm," Fred smiled, a corner of his lips curling up wickedly.


George massaged his temples tiredly. The things he got roped into…

"Ready?" Fred whispered in excitement. He was hidden behind bookshelves, having moved aside some tomes so he could get a clear shot at Blaise who happened to be two rows down, scanning the Transfigurations section.

"If you hit me, I swear to Merlin, you'll be missing your incisors," George said, holding out his wand threateningly.

"Oh, I don't doubt it," Fred smiled. "Okay, you know the signal. Wait five seconds after it."

George tried to keep his sighs to himself. Sure, he enjoyed pranks as much as the next guy (if the next guy was Fred, that is). But being at the butt end of the joke wasn't all that fun. He strolled down the length of the shelves nonchalantly, easing into the same aisle Blaise was in. He absently browsed the books, sidling closer and closer to Blaise the whole time.

A wayward sneeze caused both boys to jump. Blaise looked about in confusion, merely glancing past George with a displeased frown. Meanwhile, George was counting.

One.

He was still as a lion waiting to strike.

Two.

He unclenched his fists, reminding himself to breathe.

Three.

He slowly looked up.

Four.

A book on the ninth shelf rustled on its own.

Five.

Dust and pages came flying down towards Blaise.

George grabbed the Slytherin and pulled him out of the way, pushing him against the wall in the process of saving his life. Blaise blinked in shock, his eyes shifting towards the pile of books that was growing still as more books fell into a messy heap.

Then he looked back at George.

George, whose arms encircled Blaise's waist.

Fred had to bite down on his knuckles to keep from screaming with joy and triumph.

"Close call," George murmured.

Blaise didn't respond.

George tightened his hold a smidge, wondering if Blaise realized the position he was in. "A thank you would suffice," the redhead added with a helpful tilt of his head.

"Unhand me, you worthless blood traitor."

George's brows went up and his smile was abrupt. He had expected nothing less from this headstrong Slytherin. "Oh? I just saved your life, Zabini," he smirked.

Blaise was staring up at George without a trace of embarrassment or fear in his eyes. There was condescendence and impatience. "Would you like some help moving back, Weasley?" he snarled, his wand appearing out of nowhere and pressing against George's chest.

"No help needed at all," George said, quickly letting go of Blaise and stepping away with his arms held up in surrender.

Fred had to cross his legs to stop from peeing his pants from maniacal amusement.

"Good," Blaise snapped, straightening his shirt as he walked over the books to get out of the aisle. "Clean this up."

Fred collapsed to the floor, clutching his stomach because of the ache in his muscles from suppressed laughter. George grinned as he watched the black robe swish away around the shelves. Fred had been right, as always. This was fun.


And, for the fourth time in a week, Blaise found himself somehow cornered by a Weasley twin. Sure, it was annoying at first. But now it was just plain rude. He didn't even bother with a biting comment, reaching for his wand and shooting a wordless spell at George.

"Ah," George gasped as a stinging sensation spread across his chest. "That hurt!"

"That was the idea," Blaise muttered, sidestepping George's staggering steps. Before he could walk another step, however, George grabbed his wrist and jerked him back. He struck the wall jarringly. His wand was wrenched away and his arms were twisted around against his back. He winced, but refused to look away from George's wicked smile. "If you want something to grope, I'm sure your brother would be more than happy to oblige," he spat out. "Let go."

"You're much more compatible," George retorted, pressing his body against Blaise and pressing his lips against the unresponsive mouth.

Blaise didn't move.

George wasn't fazed. He slid his leg between Blaise's, parting them. His tongue played into the kiss, slicking both their lips.

Blaise brought his knee up swiftly, catching George unawares. "Shit," George coughed, falling to the ground and clutching his crotch. That bloody hurt.

Blaise picked his wand up off the ground and turned George around with the sole of his shoe. "Next time I'll castrate you, understand?" he threatened with his wand pointed down menacingly.

"Understood, understood," George groaned.

Blaise spit out George's taste from his lips, shuddering in disgust. "Ugh," he murmured, wiping his mouth with his sleeve as he walked away.

He didn't get very far.

It was like déjà vu. An extreme case of déjà vu. His wand was wrenched away and he was shoved against hardened stone. His arms were once against held captive behind him and pain shot up his shoulders. And there he was staring up at George again.

Except George was still on the ground.

So Blaise was staring up at Fred.

"Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me," he muttered before his head snapped back as Fred kissed him into silence.

Fred just couldn't pass up the opportunity. He knew what was to come – glorious pain directed at his groin. But that was totally worth this. He steeled himself for the attack.

Blaise parted his mouth and tilted his head to the side. Fred froze, his eyes shooting open. "Mph?" he mumbled as Blaise breathed into his mouth. Then came the coaxing tongue.

Fred scrambled away in shock.

Blaise piqued a brow while he licked his lips. He seemed to hiding a smirk, but his eyes shone with mirth. "You underestimate me," he said, massaging his wrists that had been pushed against the wall.

"Evidently," Fred murmured with a confused smile.

"Clear off," Blaise said, shooing Fred with a lazy hand. "And take that dim-wit brother of yours with you."

"As your majesty orders," Fred said with a tip of his head. He helped poor George onto his feet and pulled him away from the Devil incarnate standing in front of them. That was enough torture for today for both parties.


Then there was peace for seven days – deathlike calm before the destructive storm.

Blaise walked past the gargoyle he had passed over a thousand times before without incident. That day was a first. He was yanked around the statue into a recess he had never noticed before. The last thing he remembered was a strong smell of menthol.

When he blinked open his eyes, he found himself tied to a chair – arms behind his back, feet bound against the oak legs and ropes around his chest holding him still. "What the hell?" he exhaled, closing his eyes in frustration.

"Let's see you knee me now," George grumbled, still disgruntled by that embarrassing incident.

"Don't tempt me, Weasley," Blaise said through gritted teeth as he strained in the chair to get out. "This is a step too far."

"Just a step?" Fred tsked. "I was hoping for six steps too far…"

"Let me up," Blaise said in a measured tone. "Now."

"They never have any manners, Fred," George sighed with a disappointed shake of his head.

"I know," Fred agreed, looking thoroughly disheartened.

"Do you really think you will get away with this?" Blaise scoffed. "You will be dead before you see the light of day tomorrow!"

"Touchy," Fred smiled.

"Perverts," Blaise muttered.

"Oh, you have no idea," George muttered back.

Blaise's eyes widened, not in fear, but in astonishment. "Wait… what?" he asked, turning his head slightly so he could hear better.

"He said, you have no idea," Fred answered loudly.

Blaise blinked at the twins. They blinked back. "Oh shit," Blaise swore as George flicked his wand. The thread that held his buttons together unraveled, his shirt opening up a hint as it was still held together by the rope. "You can't be serious," Blaise said as he stared at his ruined shirt. "This is my uniform…"

"That's what you're concerned about?" Fred asked in disbelief.

Blaise picked his head up deliberately, looking at Fred with unblinking eyes. "Why? Should I be… concerned about anything else you might have to offer?" he asked, ending off with a pleasant smile.

"Gosh, I really like this one," George sighed like a lovesick girl. "He's so feisty!"

"I'm not interested," Blaise said, dropping the smile and fixing murderous glares on the redheads. "Let me go and I'll think about letting you off with just one Cruciatus curse."

Fred walked up to Blaise slowly, his wand soon pressing against Blaise's neck. He tracked it up to the strong chin, Blaise's head moving back in response. Their gazes never wavered. Fred leaned down and slid his nose alongside Blaise's. He watched the onyx irises dilate and then hide behind fluttering lids as Blaise closed his eyes. Fred ghosted a kiss against the cold lips.

Blaise struck with the speed of a striking asp, teeth gnashing and a low growl emanating from his throat as he snapped at Fred.

Fred was faster, dropping the minuscule capsule into Blaise's mouth the moment it opened and then moving away before he was bit.

Blaise chocked and coughed on the foreign object, swallowing hard and then realizing that that was the wrong thing to do. "Damn it!" he wheezed, trying to bring the capsule back up by gagging. "What did you give me?"

"Nothing too lethal," George smirked. "We just needed a test subject."

"WHAT IS IT?" Blaise shouted, straining against the chair furiously.

"Would you be terribly worried if we said aphrodisiac?" Fred asked.

Blaise stopped struggling, now resorting to blinking furiously at the ground as he tried to take that in.

"I don't think he'd be terribly worried, Fred," George said.

"I think you're right, George," Fred responded.

"It's an aphrodisiac," they said in unison.

Blaise groaned as his vision swam and a heady sensation enveloped his body.

"You see," Fred started explaining, "we were aiming to make a love potion."

"Trying to get all the ingredients just right is such a pain," George said with a defeated shrug.

"I was so sure that we had it right this time," Fred said, hands in his pockets as he paced. "Just the right amount…"

"But all we were left with after months of experiments was this."

"An aphrodisiac."

"The physicality was overdone by the potion so-"

"-the vict-er… the customer is left feeling-"

"-somewhat frustrated by the-"

"-situation they are in."

"Sexually, we mean."

"Oh, yes. Very sexually."

Blaise was shivering now, finally comprehending the situation and understanding what the twins meant to do. They wanted to observe him. "L-let me go," he panted, trying to get out of the ropes once again. "I didn't… I didn't agree to this. Let me go."

"Poor you," Fred said with a patronizing pout.

"Shall we relieve some of the… pressure?" George asked.

And, without notice, the ropes were gone.

Blaise scrambled to his feet. Then fell to the ground with a soft moan. His fingers clutched the edges of his shirt, pulling them close together. "Get it out of me," he gasped, curling up into a tight ball.

"He's lasting longer than expected," Fred observed, tapping his chin.

"If you hadn't noticed, he is rather stubborn," George noted.

"Then I suppose personality is a very important factor," Fred nodded firmly.

"Indeed."

"STOP YAMMERING AND HELP ME!" Blaise screamed, rolling over and trying to get up on his hands and knees.

"Also, involuntary volunteers are most likely a problem," George added, nodding at Blaise.

Fred laughed, nodding in ascent. "Let's try stimulation, then."

"LIKE HELL YOU WILL!" Blaise roared, dripping with sweat. He was unpleasantly aroused and had never felt this… need for sexual attention before. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he inhaled, falling onto his side once again so he could clutch his quivering stomach. "Uh… Hah, ah… sh-shit. Ah!"

"Oh?" Fred raised his brows in wonder. "Are you getting off on this? You aren't even touching yourself."

Blaise took a deep breath and held it, clenching everything inside him. He was not about to let a pair of mentally unstable Weasleys drive him off the deep end in this humiliating fashion. He was a Slytherin, damn it!

The twins watched in fascination as Blaise dug his nails into his sides and stopped making erotic sounds. Unless panting counted as erotic. Which it did… But, otherwise, there was no indication of sexual frustration. "I want the antidote now," he said, controlling his voice. "I'm not going to ask twice."

"Marvelous," George chuckled, thoroughly impressed. "You're something else, Zabini."

Blaise lurched forward without warning, striking George and knocking him to the ground. George didn't have time to appear anything but pleasantly surprised. "Antidote," Blaise exhaled, eyes falling shut as his lips pressed against George's. He crawled up closer, straddling George's stomach and deepening the kiss. He let out a throaty whimper as he weaved his fingers into the thick red hair.

"Ngheph," George garbled out, glancing at Fred for some help.

"Oh, it's fine, George. Just keep doing what you're doing," Fred said pragmatically.

"Mph!" George snapped in reproach.

Blaise couldn't get past the sensation of lips on lips. It was fantastic and he wanted so much more. He detached his craving lips and moved them to George's neck, breathing heavily as he awaited his explosive climax that he was determined to draw out for as long as possible. "In-in-inside you. I want to be inside you now," he whispered sensually.

"Oh, for crying out loud," George huffed. "He's a top, Fred."

"Imagine someone like him being bottom," Fred snorted in derision. "Of course he's a top."

"What do you suggest I do?" George asked incredulously. Fred opened his mouth but George beat him to it by adding, "And don't you dare say what I think you're about to say."

Fred snapped his teeth shut. Then he shrugged, keeping mum.

"Delicious," Blaise purred, slowly untying the Gryffindor tie.

"Gross," George grunted, shoving Blaise off of him. "I'm not a toy."

Blaise appeared lost now. His body was pulling him towards completion but his mind was refusing steadfastly. And now that the warmth under him had vanished, he had no idea what to do. So he went for his next target.

Fred saw it coming, having watched George be assaulted shamelessly. So he didn't fall when Blaise lunged at him. He merely staggered back with a soft laugh. "I'm not as dim-witted as George, remember?" he murmured.

"Hey," George whined, offended by that statement.

"Perhaps something to note, George," Fred said, holding up a finger. "Subject exhibits a heightened version of their personality while on this potion."

Blaise was beyond frustrated. He was not getting what he wanted and he always got what he wanted. Always.

Fred flew back against the wall with a hard thud, head cracking against the brick. He didn't have time to voice his pain as Blaise's lips were against his an instant later. And while those lips were occupied, the Slytherin's fingers were tugging Fred's shirt out from the pants.

"Mphorgh!" Fred yelped when he felt his shirt being tugged around absolutely unnecessarily.

Blaise slid his hands against Fred's side and held on tight.

Fred's brain short-circuited when the heat seared through skin, flesh, and bone. His lips parted out of reflex, letting in Blaise's urgent tongue. His knees buckled as the soft fingers worked their way up to his chest, brushing absently against the nipples. "Hnn…" he sighed, wrapping his arms around Blaise's neck and kissing him back.

"Mmm," Blaise hummed. The boy felt marvelous. His body was so cold and playful, always quivering and moving. He bit down on the lip that had been tempting him for a second too long. Fred moaned in response, then let out a quiet whine when Blaise's stomach touched his without a barrier.

"Ahem."

Fred nearly sobbed in dismay as he snapped back to senses and pushed Blaise away.

George was leaning against the wall, arms folded against his chest and watching the display with a knowing smile. "Fred, Fred, Fred," he tsked, shaking his head.

"Shut up," Fred mumbled, pulling his shirt straight and brushing his lips dry. "Go away."

"Not a chance," George sneered. "I'd like to see this play out."

Blaise wrapped his arms around Fred from behind. "I want to fuck you," he whispered. "Here. Now."

"Yeah," Fred rolled his eyes. "I feel that."

"Ew," George grimaced. "Just give him the antidote already."

"But I'm just getting started!" Fred sulked.

"It's way too strong, you arse. Do you really want him to murder us in our sleep?" George asked. "I think this is more than enough experimenting for today."

"Aw man," Fred complained. "I was just getting started!"

Blaise spun Fred around forcefully, miffed that the object of his 'affections' wasn't paying any attention. "Look at me," he insisted, cupping Fred's chin in his hand and kissing him breathless once again.

Fred kissed back with intense disappointment, fishing the antidote out of his pocket. He pulled his lips away from Blaise for a second and dropped the potion into his mouth. Before Blaise could sputter it out, Fred closed the lips with a kiss.

Blaise swallowed in response, the sweet taste burning his throat. He returned his hands to Fred's chest from under the shirt. "Perfect," he murmured against Fred's lips, smiling in content.

"Mhm," Fred answered, his arms banding Blaise close to him.

Then consciousness struck Blaise like a lightning bolt – unexpected and painful. He hissed in response, sagging and wrapping his arms around the lean torso for support. He opened his eyes and stared up at Fred. Then he realized where his lips were and what his hands were doing. "Oh," he mumbled.

"Thanks for that," Fred said with an impish wink.

George tried to stop from showing his exasperation as he tugged Fred away. Blaise didn't really have anything to say. He just stood where he was, shirt open and hands to his sides, blinking away the haze.

"See ya," George added.

Blaise jerked at this, his jaw falling open in response.

Just as George was exiting the room, they heard, "WHAT THE F-" before the door slammed shut.


It was the strangest thing.

People kept finding the Weasley twins in the strange binds over the next couple weeks. Sometimes it would be bee stings, at other times their nose hairs would be falling out painfully. Once, Lee even found George hanging upside down from the chandelier outside the Great Hall in nothing but his boxers. But there was never a culprit. The twins merely brushed it off with a knowing smile and wink.

After the brilliant win for the Gryffindors against the Hufflepuffs, the teams landed on the ground amidst wild cheering, the Quidditch Cup having been awarded to the Gryffindors.

Merlin knows how Blaise got caught up in it all.

He was bunched in George's arms before he could say 'horny ginger'. He was kissed, which wasn't much of a shock. The shock was that he was then spun around and kissed by Fred while George still held onto his waist.

"Good, right?" Fred asked, wiggling his brows as the crowd grew eerily silent around them.

"Right?" George urged.


"And that, kids, was the day Uncle Blaise broke my nose and his jaw," Fred said, jerking his thumb at George.

Sure, the kids were ogling the two brothers with wide eyes. But the parents were the ones who looked about ready to hurl both their dinner and other objects at the men.

"Well," Harry said, getting up off the sofa. "I don't believe I'll ever be able to get those images out of my mind." He walked away while slowly shaking his head.

"What's an aphrodisiac?" Lily asked Ginny.

"Yeah. What's that?" Hugo repeated, blinking at Hermione innocently.

"HOW BLOODY PERVERTED ARE YOU GUYS?" Ron shouted, clapping his hands to his ears a few fifteen minutes too late.

"Poor, poor Blaise," Ginny murmured, not sure whether to cry or laugh.

"What poor, poor Blaise?" George scowled. "He broke my jaw!"

"And he wouldn't even agree for a second trial!" Fred added, apparently still miffed.

"Maybe we can slip one into his drink next time we see him," George murmured in deep thought.

"And conveniently forget the antidote?" Fred asked brightly.

"Whatever floats your boat," George shrugged.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Hermione screamed.