If it was possible to be seriously turned on by your own appearance, Harry Potter was. Or rather, Harry Potter was turned on by Blaise Zabini's appearance, which he happened to be sporting at the moment. He rubbed his hand over Blaise's smooth-shaven head and adjusted his shirt. Well, shirt-let, really, since it was short-sleeved and only two of the buttons could close. It was pale pink, contrasting marvelously with Blaise's deep chocolate skin and slim-cut black trousers. The heels on his shoes added another half inch of height, as did the lifts hidden inside them -- Blaise wasn't short, but every advantage you could get, you used; a Slytherin would do no less. Harry's eyes took in Blaise's chest, well-formed pectorals pushing the shirt open a little at the top. "Blaise must wax" he thought, smirking, and on the face he was wearing that just looked like he might bite at any time, predatory and superior simultaneously.

He didn't walk so much as swagger-without-swaggering, a fluid grace that had to come from his model mother. Harry found it immensely hard to duplicate. "How does he do it?" Harry thought. "Maybe it's just the feeling of being *him*." He looked back in the mirror, realized that the reflection was in fact himself, and walked forward. This time he was much closer, exuding a definite hotter-than-you haughty perfection.

"Showtime," Harry whispered, and took another swig of potion. He'd probably need the full hour, given what he was about to do.

* * *

As he'd expected, his target was not in the Slytherin common room. With his invisibility cloak, he'd gotten close enough to hear a couple of first-years saying the password ("Hand of Glory") for the dungeon dormitory where the Slytherins lived. Walking in as Blaise had been... difficult. Harry *knew* he could fool them all, at least physically. Psychologically, well. That was a different story. So he'd been lucky enough to find his quarry missing from the common room scene before him when he'd entered. Exerting his sense of perfection, "Blaise" confidently crossed the room to the dormitory wings, then followed the more masculine voices down the hall to the right. Sure enough, in the Slytherin dungeons as it was in Gryffindor tower, the seventh-year prefects got their own rooms; the one he wanted was at the very end of the hall, wooden door set dead-center.

He didn't bother knocking; he was Blaise Zabini, and he didn't need to knock. He had to mentally adjust to the scene before him, though. Harry Potter was on his knees before Draco Malfoy, who glared at Blaise as he entered, and was conspicuously not wearing any pants. "Do you *mind*, Blaise? I'm just a little *busy* at the moment."

As a reflex, he smirked. It suited Blaise. "What, you weren't going to invite me?" he drawled, sounding insincerely hurt. Then, instinctively he added, "it looks like little Potter has quite the mouth on him; surely you didn't want to keep him for *yourself*" and ...oh my god what was he *doing*? That was *him* up there! Or rather, someone polyjuiced into him. Would he really let himself suck himself off? But wouldn't it be himself sucking Blaise off? Polyjuice was so confusing.

"Oh, I suppose I could share. Why not? After all, he's not going anywhere for a while." Draco looked down at Harry's bowed head, then seemed to come to a conclusion. "Head up, Potter. Blaise, come over here." Harry in Blaise's body sauntered over to where Harry knelt on the floor as Draco moved away. His hand moved to his trousers, but Draco cut in with "no. Let *him* do the work."

Blaise managed a half-shrug and stood, legs shoulder-width apart, in front of Harry, who reached up with his hands to Blaise's buttonhole, only to be smacked with a long piece of cord shot from the end of Draco's wand. "Hands off, Use your teeth." Whimpering, Harry did as he was told, managing to unfasten the button and slide the zipper down using his teeth. Blaise's erection was painfully visible through the black briefs he wore, and Harry's teeth made short work of them too, tucking the elastic waistband below Blaise's considerable package.

The next few seconds moved as if in half-speed, Blaise's brain shutting down at the thought of his duplicate, his body giving head to himself in another's body. As Harry's mouth closed over his prick, his eyes closed and his mouth opened, a ragged breath escaping. At that moment, he heard "petrificus totalis" and he could no longer move. Frozen, with his cock still in Harry's mouth... which was pulling away and off him; Harry was standing up and wiping at the corners of his mouth, pulling off the glasses, his skin darkening by the minute, his hair fading into his scalp, and momentarily Blaise Zabini found himself face-to-face with Blaise Zabini.

"What, you thought Draco wouldn't recognize a friend?" he sneered, taunting his twin. "I've always been a bit narcissistic... Draco, would you mind if I..." he trailed off and waved his hand toward the bound Blaise.

Draco grinned. "Not at all. In fact, I may just have to get myself started while you, ah, investigate the goods."

Blaise stepped forward and kissed his duplicate full on the lips. Harry hadn't been expecting that. Still unable to move, he could only react as Blaise's tongue slid between his lips and sought his own. Harry also hadn't expected Blaise's hands on his chest, sliding over his pecs and down his flat stomach. Blaise spread his hands and easily ripped the two serviceable buttons from the skimpy shirt that covered his twin's torso, laying it bare. He began to kiss his way down Harry's transformed body, pausing in the hollow of the neck and licking the little indentation at the midpoint of Harry's collarbone, just at the base of his throat. Blaise spent several agonizing seconds on Harry's nipples, circling them several times before swiping the flat of his tongue across the sensitive nubs. As he approached Harry's waist, his hands rose to the belt and button, easily divesting Harry of his pants; Blaise caught his breath at the sight of his own cock, hard and straining against the low-cut black briefs Harry wore.

Blaise's cock was a thing of beauty; even Draco would admit that. As he slid the briefs down Harry's thighs, Blaise took in the sight of his own beautiful dick, pointing toward him. Before he could think too much about it, he leaned a bit further down and took it in his mouth. He'd never sucked off anyone under a petrificus before, unless you counted Zach Smith, who was a wanker anyway, and he'd certainly never sucked himself off, or even a copy of himself, but his own cock was straining at his trousers; as much play as he'd had with Draco, he was ready for more, and feared he might come just from getting himself off.

As Harry's transformed cock found the back of Blaise's throat, Blaise reached up and fondled Harry's ass -- he knew exactly what good shape his arse was in, and appreciated it all the more knowing how it looked from all four sides. Harry could make no reply, but Blaise sensed his orgasm approaching. He wasn't sure what would happen if he made Harry come -- with Zach he'd left before allowing the wanker the pleasure of an orgasm -- but he knew he was about to find out. He had almost no warning, as Harry's body was stiff and incapable of most of the physical cues, and ended up swallowing out of necessity. He tasted salty.

Draco, looking on from the sidelines, dick in hand, was grinning like a maniac. "I give him about ten more minutes" he said, and it took Blaise a few seconds to put together that Draco meant time left in Harry's transformation -- the polyjuice would wear off around then.

"So what then? We toss him out for the rest of the House to deal with?"

Draco's smile was thin and catlike. "Not at all. I've got a proposition for dear old Harry."

* * *

If polyjuice was painful (or at least strange), morphing back from polyjuice was downright unsettling -- a sense of loss coupled with a sense of returning were usually more than enough to confuse a polyjuice user. Coupled with the petrificus, Harry was not looking forward to the end of his potion. He saw Draco and Blaise whispering, and every so often one of them would shoot him a sharp glance, keeping him wondering about what they were going to do to him. Or worse, with him. Admittedly, being sucked off by a gorgeous, talented guy was not exactly punishment, even if he was a Slytherin, but Harry suspected that had only been the beginning.

As he felt the first pangs of reversion, he saw Blaise walking over to Draco's desk, on which, among the parchment, scrolls, and quills, there was a largish silver goblet. Wondering what could be happening, he watched as Blaise drank from the goblet and passed it to Draco, who did the same. As they both started changing, Harry realized that the goblet must have held Blaise's polyjuice from before -- Blaise and Draco were becoming him.

Grinning at one another, Blaise and Draco stripped, then crossed to Harry. As they walked behind him and started undressing him, Harry realized that he would no longer be able to tell who was Blaise and who was Draco. Perhaps, he thought, that was the point.

Harry's shirt was easily removed, and with a wave of someone's wand his pants and shoes disappeared as well. "I think that's better, don't you, Harry?" he heard from behind him.

"Oh, yes, Harry," came the reply, immediately after, and Harry realized that they both sounded exactly like he did; he definitely would not be able to tell them apart.

One Harry came into view, stepping around him from the left and instantly capturing Harry's mouth. The other must have come around immediately after, but Harry was too preoccupied by the first Harry's tongue to see; he felt it, though, when the second Harry's mouth engulfed his cock. He lost all track of time as his twins attacked his mouth and cock -- he knew time had passed, but only because he came more than once.

Suddenly the mouth on his prick withdrew and he felt hands on his arse -- and a cold, slick digit shoved inside. Not being able to move, Harry could only stand and take it as a second and then a third finger was added to the first, stretching his arse uncomfortably. The Harry who was monopolizing his mouth reached down with one hand and wrapped it around Harry's cock, while the other hand moved to tease his nipples; all of which, he realized, was a distraction from the cock -- his own -- that was about to pierce him. And then his arse was on fire and he was achingly, painfully full with a Harry's dick inside him and a Harry's tongue in his mouth, and a horrified fascination and a willing prick.

The Harry behind him seemed momentarily content to just fill Harry's insides, but he heard "finite incantatem" from behind him, and suddenly he could move again. The Harry occupying his mouth pushed forward and he was collapsing backward right onto the Harry behind him, sending that Harry's cock even further into his arse. The two Harrys easily overpowered Harry, and the one whose cock was buried in him fucked him roughly until he came, as the other Harry wanked in front of Harry's face.

When the Harry in his arse pulled out, Harry felt momentarily empty, but started scrambling away, trying to get his bearings and leave. Despite the fact that he'd come three times, he felt like he'd been made into a living sex toy. But even as he grabbed some clothing and headed for the door, one of the Harrys stood to block his passage. Harry dodged around him, but the Harry caught his shoulder and spun him around into the arms of the other Harry, whose lips caught Harry's in a deep kiss. The Harry that had caught him at the door joined them and the kiss extended three ways, lips meeting and wiping away the feeling of being used, replacing it with the feeling of being wanted.

When the kiss finally broke, Harry backed away. "I..."

"Don't bother," one of the Harrys said. "We know."

"We'll see you again sometime," the other said. "Maybe as somebody new."

Harry slipped into the clothes he'd entered in, took the last swig from his polyjuice flask, and became Blaise again. "Count on it," he said, and walked out the door.