Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy
Setting: Hogwarts, 1997
Spoilers: through Order of the Phoenix
Disclaimer: Thou shall not claim Harry Potter as ones own.
Summary: Just something I thought up last night while trying to fall asleep. Harry finds a very bored Draco in an empty classroom and decides to test one of his latest theories.
Draco Malfoy sat in a dark, deserted classroom, staring glumly out the window. He was bored. He was so bored; in fact, that he had come up with a list of ways to describe how bored he was. Draco Malfoy, Prince of Slytherin, was bored, fed up, uninterested, jaded, indifferent, apathetic, impassive, unconcerned and complete deadpan.
"Enjoying the view?"
Draco turned at the voice in the doorway, lethargic eyes looking them up and down. Black hair, once unruly and messy, now curling gently down past his ears, green eyes no longer hidden behind glasses and a gentle half-smile on his face. A tight green sweater stretched over his chest, covered by a black dragon hide jacket. Black jeans hung low on his thin hips, leading down a pair of long legs to dragon hide boots on his feet. Oh yes, Draco was quite enjoying this view, thank you very much.
"And what are you all dressed up for?" Draco asked slowly, not that he minded. Harry quirked him that little half-smile again, eyes twinkling.
"Ron's decided to play cupid. He's set me up with every girl in the sixth and seventh year. Pity he hasn't figured out my type." Harry laughed, looking a bit smug about something.
"Oh? What type is that?" Draco asked indifferently, turning back to look out the window. This conversation was going nowhere fast.
"I don't think I shall tell you." Harry teased, smirking slightly. Draco raised one eyebrow, still looking out the window. The view out there wasn't nearly as nice as the view Draco had in here, but it was a pretty sight nonetheless.
"Why not?" Draco asked.
"I think you should figure it out on your own. I dare say you'll get it before Ron does." Harry replied. Draco could hear the laughter in his voice, almost as though Harry expected a certain reaction from Draco…
"Tell me." Draco demanded, pouting slightly. He couldn't really decide why he wanted to know what Potter's type was, but something told him it had something to do with the fluttering, weak feeling he had every time he met the brilliant green eyes of the Boy-Who-Lived.
"Let's see. Blonde hair, for a start." He listed slowly. Draco cocked his head to the side slightly, half listening. He was drumming his fingers absentmindedly against the top of the desk he was sitting on.
"Silver eyes." Harry continued. Draco's fingers froze mid-tap.
"Name starts with D, ends with Y and has a R-A-C-O-M-A-L-F-O in between." Harry finished slyly. Draco's head snapped to the right as he met Harry's eyes, which were glittering with silent laughter.
Draco sat frozen for a moment, just staring at Harry. That sexy half-smile was back as Harry stood leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed lightly over his chest. He stared back at Draco, waiting for any type of response.
"If you're going to kiss me, now would be the right time to do it." Harry teased. It was all the invitation Draco needed. Pushing himself up he crossed the room in two strides, stopping only a breath away from Harry. The Gryffindor grinned and let his arms fall to his sides and then to rest on Draco's hips as the blonde wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders and stood up on his toes.
The kiss was sweet and chaste and oh so perfect, filled with promises of more.
"Well look at that," Harry murmured softly, opening his eyes slowly to look at Draco. He was still on his toes, hands clasped behind Harry's back as he watched the Boy-Who-Lived.
"Better tell Cupid you found out your type." Draco teased, giving Harry a small half smile.
"Oh, I definitely found my type." Harry agreed, pulling Draco back for the second of many, many kisses to come.