Title: Eating Blowfish

Category: Harry Potter

Genre: Action/Adventure/Romance/Humor

Rating: R

Pairings: So far, H/D

Summary: Harry Potter is a good boy. Despite his various adventures, ya gotta admit he needs to live a little. Is a certain blond Slytherin the right man for the job?

Warning: language, slash

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Notes: The title came from an interesting fact I learned in Biology. Apparently less than a decade ago it was a common practice for daredevils and adventure seekers to go to Japanese restaurants and spend 8 to 10 thousand dollars for cooked blowfish. According to my Biology teacher, blowfish contain mercury, a highly poisonous substance. If cooked correctly, it might not kill you, but mistakes are always made. The thrill seekers eat this 10,000 meal simply to feel the excitement of possibly dying from a simple fish dinner.

Prologue: No Thrill Like…Well, No Thrill

(Draco's POV)

Life is like a box of chocolates…but most of them are already eaten. Normal, every day people receive this partially eaten box. There are a few who actually get the box intact and then there are the ones who are simply handed an empty box from birth and laughed at. Harry Potter is one of these.

But he doesn't have to be. One thing not many know is that there are two sides to every coin. In the chocolates case, you can actually earn chocolates from life, and fill your box to the brim. The only way to do this is to live life to the fullest. Unfortunately, poor Potter cannot possibly do that while still under the Headmaster's thumb. He might be a good boy, an upstanding citizen, a hero, but that doesn't make him the most exciting person. Rumor had it that Potter was actually pretty dull.

But that's where I come in. Draco Lucius Malcolm Malfoy, at your service (Lucius for my father, Malcolm for my grandfather). As most know, I am what can be considered a junior Death Eater. Sadly, there is actually a club for that. But not only Slytherins occupy it. Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors, and Ravenclaws are just as evil as us if prompted. They wanted to make me president, but I politely declined, with only a few curses and a hex or two.

Anyway, I am going to help Potter. I'm going to bring him into my world, the world of thrills, chills and real adventures. The world of a daredevil. I'd earned my box of chocolates three times over. It was about time he got in on the game. I planned to lend him some of mine.

Now how exactly I'm going to go about this is a totally different story.

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(Harry's POV)

The Boy-Who-Lived. Harry Potter. Gryffindor's Golden Boy. Three names that I hated. Three names that I couldn't escape. And worst of all, I didn't even like the name Harry. Why couldn't I be named something cool like Alexander or Michael? But no, I just had to be named Harry. Do you know what Harry means? Torment by or as if by constant attack. I must have drawn a bad card in the poker game called life.

Yep, that's me, the bad poker player, the bad life player. And boy did I know it. How many boyfriends and girlfriends had I gone through because I couldn't connect with them on a certain level? All of them left me with the same line. "Do you even know what fun is, Harry Potter?" And worse, I didn't. I didn't know what the appeal of truth and dare was, or why spin the bottle got such raving reviews. I didn't understand, and I didn't play, so therefore I was a stuck up little brat who cared for no one. My romantic encounters have sunk to an all time low because of this.

Once again, life had dealt me some fucked up cards, but hopefully I could figure out what was wrong with that and fix it. I hope.

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(Narrator's POV)

Draco Malfoy sat in the center of the Slytherin common room, coolly regarding his housemates. Only upperclassmen surrounded him, fellow Slytherins in his 6th year and 7th year. Blaise Zabini sat in a leather armchair beside him, reclining with his Gryffindor boyfriend, Neville Longbottom. (Their story was a strange one we won't go into right this moment.) Theodore Nott lay across the divan curled around his girlfriend, Hermione Granger. The Muggle-born had grown up to be quite the looker, warranting Slytherin's obvious approval. That and she'd thrown Blaise and Neville a wild anniversary party even Draco was hard pressed to recreate.

Other Slytherin's leaned forward attentively as Draco spoke. "Fellow Slytherins, purveyors of all things exciting and different, ambitious and clever ones, I have gathered you today to put forth a request, and a proposition," he said in his clear, smooth voice. "This request and proposition directly affect the Guard's Cherub and the Treasurer's Fairy. With the Lord Snape's permission, they have attended. Do any snakes have an objection?"

"Nay, Prince," the room chorused. Though he was the Prince of Slytherin, he still had to have the approval and permission of the House and Council.

"Good," Draco said, smirking. "Now, on to business. My request has to do with Harry Potter." He ignored the gasps at that statement. "As many have noticed, he is about as fun as watching the Giant Squid and the Whomping Willow have sex on the Gryffindor table."

"Actually, that would be kind of fun," piped in Millicent Bullstrode. Other Slytherins nodded sheepishly. Draco sighed, but conceded the point.

"You may be right. Well, that is beside the point. What I am trying to say is that Potter is dull to the point of watching paint dry the Muggle way, and we simply can't have that," he continued. "In light of this revelation, I request of the Council the House's support in teaching the Boy-Who-Lived the art of truly living."

The House was quiet for a moment, and then a slow murmur rose up. When it died down again, one of the Slytherins whispered in Blaise's ear. He nodded. "The House has spoken. The Council has agreed. The Prince has our blessing. Under one condition."

"Speak," Draco said.

"Potter must be made into one of us. Do not show him life only to take it away. By the end of this endeavor, he must be the consort of a noble Slytherin," Blaise intoned. "Also, something was said of a proposition. Speak, Prince."

"Right, well I was going to propose placing him under our protection for the time being but the Council's condition fully covers that. I thank you." Bowing his head slightly, Draco rose. "That out of the way, General, come forward."

Daphne Greengrass, a 6th year Slytherin girl, came forward. "My Prince," she said, bowing. Behind her stood three 7th years, part of her personal War Council.

"I want the War Council to immediately begin the usual protections on Potter. These will have to be a bit more extreme than what you had to deal with when the Cherub and the Fairy were initiated. This is the Boy-Who-Lived," Draco said. "I trust you understand the gravity of the situation?"

"Of course, my Prince. May the War Council convene until tomorrow? We wish to make plans," the General said. Draco simply nodded. "My thanks, Prince. Come along, snakes." She left the common room.

"Right, then. Fairy, Cherub, try to help Potter prepare for his transition, but do not, under any circumstances, tell him anything. He must not know before hand," Draco continued. "Do you understand?"

"Aye, my Prince," murmured the two Gryffindor's. Blaise nodded to indicate he would make sure his Cherub would follow through, as did Theodore. Draco could count on his Guard and Treasurer.

"Good," Draco said distractedly, thoughts of his plan already buzzing around his head. He was sort of excited about this. He would get the chance to teach Harry Potter a few things about life, and maybe, if he was lucky, learn a few things himself. Plus, though the Council had unknowingly given him advance permission, Draco had already planned for Harry to be the consort of a noble Slytherin. Him.

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(Harry's POV)

Around 10pm last night, Hermione and Neville had approached me saying some weird stuff about eating blowfish and experiencing life fully or something. It was really weird, and I'd tried to get them to go the Infirmary, but they insisted they were fine. Then Hermione did something even weirder. She threw a book at me.

No, seriously! Hermione Granger, best friend since 1st year, all around non-violent person, had flung a heavy book at me. Then she'd grabbed Neville and took off as if the hounds of hell were at her heels. The last time I'd seen her run like that was when we were in the Department of Mysteries 5th year.

When she was gone, I actually looked at the book she'd thrown. It was called A More Exciting Life: For People Who Are Denser Than The Average Rock (And Don't Understand When People Ask "Do You Even Know What Fun Is?") Edition 4 by Sarcasum Muse. What did that mean? Was Hermione trying to tell me something? Not that it mattered. I had a Potions essay due, and didn't really have time to worry about her newest cryptic message.

I wonder if I can find her long enough to tell me what the catalyst property of a Dreamless Sleep Potion is?

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TBC…

Hey, gang. Sorry for the lost months. I've had severe writer's block, and this is and attempt to clear it. I'll be working on some other stories that need updating while this is up.

Also, DarkNuriko's birthday was Feb.2nd! Congratulations, Nuri-chan!

Miaka