This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's note: This is an extra scene for the novel-length fic The Next Best Thing, written as thanks to my fabulous readers when the story hit 100 reviews! *blushes* You guys are awesome! Keep 'em coming!

It's a one-shot set well before TNBT picks up – the day Harry marries Ginny – and the pairing is Draco/Blaise … sort of. *grins* It won't make much sense to you if you haven't read The Next Best Thing.

***

"Come in," Draco drawled, not bothering to move from the divan to open the door.

Blaise walked into the sumptuous hotel suite, his eyebrows rising in approval as he looked around the well-appointed room. He kicked off his shoes, relishing the feel of the ultra-plush carpet under his bare feet.

"What's the occasion?"

Draco shrugged, toasting Blaise silently with his champagne flute. A champagne flute filled with – Blaise looked closer – Firewhisky.

Blaise poured himself a glass of the amber liquid and sank down onto the over-sized divan next to Draco. He took a sip, surprised when he recognized the earthy flavor of well-aged whisky – the kind that cost dozens of Galleons a glass – noting that Draco was drinking it as though it were no more potent or expensive than water.

"So, what's in Prague, other than us?"

Draco merely raised his shoulders again in an elegant shrug, taking a rather large gulp of his Firewhisky. Continuing his perusal of the room, Blaise noticed a thick piece of creamy parchment propped up against the lamp next to the bottle of alcohol. His eyes flicked from the expensive paper to Draco's formal attire – finely tailored dress robes in charcoal grey, a color Draco wasn't fond of. But he knew who was.

"Fuck," Blaise breathed, shaking his head at the blond. "Potter's wedding is today, isn't it?"

Draco shrugged again, his posture bored. Only his slightly red-rimmed eyes gave him away. Blaise leaned over him, snagging the parchment from the table.

Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Weasley

request the honor of your presence to bear witness as their daughter,

Ginevra Molly Weasley,

and Harry James Potter

exchange vows of their love and devotion with the invocation of a Marriage Bond.

Please join us as we celebrate the beginning of their life together.

A Portkey will arrive the morning of the wedding.

"That's it? No date, no time, no place?"

Draco laughed, twirling the champagne flute around absently, and Blaise flinched when some of the aged whisky slopped over the side.

"He's the Boy Who Lived Twice," he said derisively, rolling his eyes. "Couldn't let the invitations fall into the wrong hands, you know. Wouldn't want the wrong sort to show up."

"Draco," Blaise said quietly, trying to stop the other man before he embarrassed himself.

"No, really," Draco continued, snatching the invitation out of Blaise's hands. He Summoned an object from the bedside table, allowing the heart-shaped silver paperweight to come to rest in his outstretched hand. Draco sneered at it, tossing it to Blaise. "Tacky, isn't it?"

Blaise turned the heavy paperweight over in his hand, reading the inscription etched on the back.

Ginny and Harry, 2 p.m. Saturday, May 6, 2000

The darker wizard wrinkled his nose, nodding. It was a bit tacky, even if the security was necessary. Really, Blaise thought disparagingly, weighing the object in his hand. A heart-shaped Portkey? Blech.

"Mine was delivered this morning by the groom's owl," Draco said, his tone scathing. He took another deep swallow of whisky, and Blaise wondered if a discreet Sobriety Spell would be out of line. "Accompanied by a personal letter, no less."

Blaise let the Portkey fall to the table, resting his hand on Draco's thigh.

"I'm sorry, Dray," he said quietly, bracing himself for a barrage of insults. He was the only one who knew about Harry and Draco's relationship; he'd been the one to help put the pieces back together when Draco fell apart after Harry's sudden engagement last October. "I know it's hard –"

"You don't know anything," Draco spat, hurling the half-full glass across the room. Blaise flinched when the heavy crystal shattered against the wall, spraying the creamy carpet with dark liquid.

"Draco –"

"I didn't call you here to offer your condolences, Blaise," Draco said, his voice hard. Blaise relaxed slightly. So it's going to be like that then, he thought, relieved Draco wanted a fuck buddy, not a shoulder to cry on."Do you want to know what the letter said?"

Blaise's eyes shifted to the parchment on the table. He could imagine the kind of noble drivel Potter had spouted. "Not really, no."

Draco's lips curved upward into a smile, though the bitterness in it made it more grimace than grin.

"I knew I could count on you, Blaise," Draco purred, standing and pulling Blaise up by the front of his robes, leading him into the next room. "You always seem to know exactly what I need."

Blaise sighed, reaching into a deep interior pocket of his robes to grab a flask. He tipped it up to his mouth, shuddering at the flavor of the potion. He'd taken Polyjuice several times before, and it had always tasted horrible. The problem with Potter's Polyjuice wasn't that it tasted bad, but that it actually tasted good, like sunshine and spices. Blaise hated that; it would be easier to dislike the bastard if he wasn't so decent. How bad could he be if even his Polyjuice tasted good?

By the time they'd reached the ridiculously large bed, Blaise's smooth dark skin and long face had been replaced by Harry's tanned and boyish visage. He'd shucked his now overly large robes as they'd crossed the room, knowing Draco hated seeing Harry's body swimming in Blaise's clothing.

"No talking," Draco warned, and Blaise rolled his eyes, nodding his head once.

The rules were always the same, and Blaise had never slipped up. He was grateful to be here at all, even if it wasn't in his own body. He'd do nothing to jeopardize that, especially now that Potter seemed to be permanently out of the picture. Blaise blinked several times as the room failed to come into focus; Potter's horrible eyesight always gave him a headache. A small price to pay, he thought ruefully, following Draco's lead and kneeling on the bed.

Blaise wrapped his arms around Draco's slender body, his fingertips ghosting over pale skin, trailing from shoulder to hip and back again. His touches were gentle, a startling contrast to the fierce way Draco was devouring his mouth. His heart sped up, his arousal growing quickly at Draco's desperation. He had never been quite so eager before; there had always been an element of guilt to their encounters, at least on Draco's part. No matter how Slytherin they were, both of them knew deep down that this was wrong. It added to the excitement for Blaise, but he'd always thought it dampened things a bit for Draco. Not today, though.

Blaise winced slightly as Draco's teeth sought purchase on his neck, wondering absently if the marks and bruises would transfer to his own body when the Polyjuice wore off. He kept up his gentle exploration of Draco's soft skin, enjoying how silky it felt over the rock-hard muscles of his back and stomach.

"Now," Draco said, surprising Blaise.

Usually they took their time, making sure Draco was well prepared. Draco enjoyed the feel of Harry's tongue inside him, and equally enjoyed lavishing attention on Harry's thick cock to make sure it was well lubricated. Blaise felt a brief flash of disappointment that today's assignation was going to be fast and dirty, though his cock throbbed in excitement at the thought.

Blaise grabbed his wand, quickly casting several charms that would stretch and lubricate Draco, since it seemed like the blond was desperate enough to try to take Harry's cock dry rather than waste the time to prepare himself. He felt a momentary – and unusual – pang of guilt at the thought he was taking advantage of Draco's unstable mental state, quickly casting it aside when he felt Draco grab his cock, guiding him into place.

Blaise pushed inside slowly, pausing to wait until the ring of muscles at Draco's entrance loosened slightly so he could gain deeper entry without hurting the blond. Draco writhed against him, trying to force him all the way inside. Blaise inched deeper, keeping the pace slow until he felt his balls rest against Draco's arse.

Draco continued to struggle underneath him, desperately pushing up against Harry's cock. "Fast and hard," he gasped through gritted teeth, his eyes shut tightly, though Blaise couldn't tell if it was in response to pleasure or pain.

He moved his hips slowly, pulling out gently and then thrusting back inside Draco's impossibly tight heat. The blond made a sound of protest, grabbing Blaise's hips and forcing him onto his side, rolling them over with his cock still inside him. He braced himself against the strong chest underneath him, his hands resting on defined pectorals that were dusted with dark hair. Blaise watched, transfixed, as Draco drew himself up and down, thrusting as hard as he could against Harry's cock. Grey eyes darkened as Draco caught sight of his pale hand against golden-hued skin, his fingers curling with pleasure even as his heart contracted in agony.

He forced his gaze up, meeting conflicted green eyes. Draco slammed his own eyes shut. It was all wrong – Blaise's emotions in Harry's beautiful eyes. He concentrated on the feeling of Harry's cock moving in and out of him at a punishing pace; that, at least, felt the same. Draco felt his balls contract, and he wanted to cry out, to stop his release, to drag out the encounter, the only way he could be with Harry now, but he didn't. He came explosively, sobbing at how hollow it felt, his heart breaking with the knowledge that Harry was pledging his soul to someone else at this very moment.

Draco didn't notice as Blaise's own orgasm ripped through him, his hands holding Draco's hips in place as he pistoned up into him. As soon as the waves of pleasure had ebbed, Blaise sat up, careful not to dislodge Draco, and wrapped his arms around the sobbing blond. Draco tucked his head into the warm and familiar chest, breathing in the scent that was wholly Harry as he gasped for breath.

"I'm sorry, Draco," Blaise said, and Draco shuddered convulsively, his mind reeling at hearing those words in Harry's voice. The same words he'd read in Harry's letter earlier that morning. "I'm so sorry."