I would like to dedicate this fic to my sister, whose undying love for Drarry and immensely inappropriate sense of humour inspired this story. Very M. Very strange. You've been warned.

o.O.o

A New Market For

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was usually quiet once school had started for the year. However, the lack of children in their store enabled Fred and George to bring out their more… mature products.

This fall was the release of a catalogue of products that they'd noticed, with alarming suddenness, had never before been released in the wizarding community:

Sex toys for gay wizards.

It had come to Fred's attention, after experimenting with a man, that there were no toys designed specifically for wizards. Or objects in general to make the sex less painful and more enjoyable. He and George had toiled for a year to bring these products to fruition, and now that the school year had begun, they could show them to the world.

For the first two weeks the shop was packed as wizards from all over the globe came to examine these marvellous new products – things that would make their lives easier. In that time, the twins saw some very interesting characters: a wizard from Egypt who kept a snake in his turban, an American wizard with bright pink hair, an Australian wizard who claimed everything was 'hunky dory' and a French wizard who continually asked Fred if he would like to see his baguette.

However, no character was more interesting than the head of black hair that slunk into the shop ten minutes before close, when most of the patrons were gone.

They watched him linger in the prank section, then slowly wind his way around the shop, stopping briefly in the new products section and the import section. Fred and George glanced at each other, shrugged, then descended upon him like a Fury from hell.

"My dear fellow," George said, "how can we help you today?"

"Is there anything our illustrious benefactor desires?" Fred asked, batting his eyelashes at the younger man. Harry yelped and George snatched a vial from his hand.

"Men's Vaginal Lube," George read the label.

"Harry, why do you have that?" Fred asked. Harry glanced around fearfully, but no one else in the shop seemed to have heard. Steam streamed from his ears as he grabbed the pair and hauled them bodily into the rear storage room.

"Oy-oy-oy no need to get so handsy!" George said. Harry slammed the door shut behind them and plucked the vial from his hand.

"Did you really have to shout like that?" Harry demanded.

"Now why does Harry Potter have a vial of lube that gives a man's arsehole the aesthetic of a vagina for up to two hours?" Fred asked innocently. Indeed, this was their most popular item: a potion that, when applied around the arsehole, changed its feel to that of a vagina. They'd tested it on a number of volunteer witches (they'd gone through the correct paperwork and formalities first), all who claimed that when the lube was applied, inside the arsehole felt exactly the same as in the vagina.

And the Boy Who Lived had a vial.

"It's not for me!" Harry blustered. "It's for a friend! Don't yell it out to the whole world, okay?" He glared at them and moved to march past, but the twins' held out their arms and blocked his way.

"Who's this friend?" George asked. Harry's cheeks went pink.

"You don't know him." He refused to meet their gazes.

"Let me guess," Fred sighed, "he goes to a different school?"

"Dean Thomas?"

"He's with Seamus Finnigan." Fred shook his head.

"Neville?"

"Not likely. Ernie Macmillan?"

"Too whiney. Justin Finch-Fletchley?"

"Hates Harry. Wayne Hopkins?

"Nah. Roger Malone?"

"Nah. Kevin Entwhistle?"

"Nah. Terry Boot?"

"Hates Harry. Michael Corner?"

"Dated our sister. Anthony Goldstein?"

"Also dated our sister. Stephen Cornfoot?"

"I have no idea who that is. Oliver Rivers?"

"I don't know who that is either."

Through all of this, Harry said nothing. George gasped.

"Not a Slytherin!"

"Can I go?" Harry asked tiredly.

"It is a Slytherin!"

"Why would it be a Slytherin? I'm not friends with any Slytherin's." Harry spoke calmly, but his face still flamed and he still couldn't look at either of them.

"That's true," George said.

"Does Ronnie now about this 'friend'?" Fred asked.

"… No."

"Is Ron the friend?"

"NO!" Harry had never looked more horrified in his life, and he'd had a pretty messed up life.

"Merlin's beard, it's Ron! Forge, ickle Ronniekins is gay!"

"B-but he's married to Hermione!" Harry shouted.

"By golly, Gred, it must mean they want a threesome. Is it with you, Harry?"

"Wha-but-huh-no-I-no-NO!" The words tumbled from Harry's mouth. His eyes were wide and his face flaming and not a single logical thought was likely to be crossing his mind. The twins glanced at each other and burst out laughing.

"We're only messing with you!" Fred exclaimed.

"Don't get so worked up." George ruffled Harry's hair and Harry stepped back, hurriedly fixing it (to no avail, his hair was perpetually messy).

"Off you pop." Fred stepped aside and Harry moved past and put his hand on the doorknob. "Oh, before you go, is there anything else you desire?"

"Perhaps a wizards cockring?" George said innocently.

Harry stiffened for seven long seconds, then turned his head and grimaced.

"… No. I'm-my friend is fine. He just needs this."

The twins winked and, in unison, said, "Enjoy, mate."

Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the Boy Who Lived, made history that day by turning an entirely new shade of red. He shoved the vial into his pocket and stalked out.

Fred and George looked at each other, their faces expressionless.

"He's so gay."

They pushed and shoved each other in their haste to get to the door first, stamping on each other's feet and scratching and poking wherever they could reach. A string of swear words escaped under their breaths and they burst through the door with a BANG. At the front counter, Verity jumped and looked up at them. She'd never seen them move so quickly. She opened her mouth to say something, but Fred and George had already cannonballed out the front door.

They saw Harry's head of black hair fast-walking up the street, hunched over with hands shoved in his pocket. Without a second thought, the twins' both raised their wands and cast a Chameleon Charm onto themselves. Now invisible, they chased after their prey. Harry walked the length of Diagon Alley and arrived at the posh restaurant beside the Leaky Cauldron. Harry glanced around and entered.

"We should go covert for a living," Fred whispered. George chuckled.

"Now, what's our illustrious benefactor doing here?"

They stood at the window and stared inside. Harry crossed the restaurant, towards, the back, and slid into one of the private booths. They couldn't see who else was sitting in the booth, but whoever it was made Harry smile like a bloody lunatic. As they watched, a hand reached out to grasp Harry's.

"We need to go inside," George said.

"That we do."

Still invisible, the pair strolled inside and dodged around tables and floating trays until they could see the mystery person in the booth with Harry.

Draco-Bloody-Malfoy.

"I knew it was a Slytherin," George hissed.

"But Malfoy?"

"Smiling?"

"I think we're in a parallel universe."

"Should we sit down with them, Forge?"

"Yes, Gred, I think we should."

They crossed to the booth, George sliding in beside Harry and Fred sliding in beside Malfoy. They rested their elbows on the table and, in unison, cancelled the charms.

"Hey, Harry," the twins said.

The reaction was instantaneous. Harry and Draco both swore, pressed themselves against the booth and drew their wands. Fred and George continued to smile, and realisation dawned in Harry's eyes.

"What in Merlin's saggy left testicle are you two doing here?" Harry demanded. He shoved his wand back into his pocket and punched George's shoulder. Malfoy, instead of looking angry, looked outraged.

"Nice friend, Harry," the twins said.

The outrage turned to panic, and Harry and Malfoy exchanged glances, blushing furiously. Fred and George looked at each other.

"Knew he was gay," Fred said. George nodded.

"So gay."