(( Never done a HP fic before. This is… oh who knows. AU? Or maybe mid HBP? Or pre HBP?… the fact is, it is inspired by a hilarious picture which I don't know the artist name of, nor where to find it, but it made me laugh. And now it's four a.m. and I find myself far too tired to care.

HP and his affiliates are not my creation, my possession, or in any way, shape, or form, something I make money off of.

Oh, and this is shounen ai. ))


"He looks like a girl half the time, you know. I sort of expect him to come out, prancing in a floofy skirt and wearing mascara," Ron sniggered into his sandwich.

"Oh come off it, Ron," Hermione scowled. "Leave Draco alone. He's not that bad."

"What's the deal with standing up for Malfoy, Hermione?" Harry asked in surprise. "I thought you hated him as much as we did."

"Maybe things have just been really quiet lately and I wonder. I mean, he's really eased off of his normal routine of insults, or haven't you noticed?"

Harry had, but he'd not mentioned it to anyone. At first he'd been too pissed as a matter of course to say anything or even accept what he'd been noticing. But later it was ego and pride. After years of open hostilities, one didn't just drop everything and make it easy going. There had to be blood. There had to be pain. Someone had to lose.

He shrugged, noncommittally.

"Boys can be such prats sometimes," Hermione snorted, standing up and flouncing off. "I'm going to the library."

Harry watched her go with a slightly bemused expression. "What's her problem?"

"Got me, mate," Ron sighed. "She's been on this 'Draco' kick about the same as those bloody house elves from earlier. It's worrisome. Don't suppose she's interested?"

"I hope not," Harry answered without thinking. "I don't think she's his type."

"Oh yeah," Ron snorted, "I forgot. Pansy Malfoy and his flouncy skirts."

Harry grinned. "Hey, gotta go," he stood, gathering up his books. "See you at DADA, huh?"

"Sure thing, mate."

Harry tucked his books under his arms and slipped out into the hallways. He had a study period and he wanted to be sure he wasn't late.

Crossing the main hallway floor, he headed up a stairwell that moved in mid transit. With a curse about the stairs being as bad as Weasley twins, he redirected his course and switched stairs a bit later. With a few more shifts and outmaneuvering of stairs, he found himself standing outside the astronomy turret door. A quick glance at his watch made him take a breath. He wasn't late, just yet.

Pushing the door open, he glanced inside. The sky outside was cloudy and so the entirety of the room was cast in a soft gloom, dull grey and easy to hide within. "Anyone there?" he whispered and closed the door behind him.

A shape, over near the window, moved and a deep sigh rolled out. Harry could see eyes in his mind, rolling with that sigh. "Not as if anyone else would be stupid enough to come up here during the broad daylight, you silly prat."

Able to hear the note that he'd been searching for, the one that said the other wasn't pissed, Harry grinned. "Just wanting to be sure," he let loose and swaggered into the room. Feeling very boyish and full of energy, life, the works.

"Course," the other sneered. Harry could visualize that sneer as well. "Because things change so very often I mean, people just happen to be up here all of the time during this time. Stop being so daft, Potter."

Harry snickered and slipped to the other side of the window seat, staring at the blonde boy across from him. Grey eyes managed to be both warm and aloof at the same time. It was part of the beauty of the young man.

"Hallo," Harry said softly and leant forward. Fingers cupping the other's jaw and with a light pressure, drawing him close. The blonde hummed in the depths of his throat and smiled, tilting his jaw up and arching his lower back. He was delicate, beautiful, lithe, enchanting.

None of those words Harry would ever be able to say aloud and not risk having an unforgiveable thrown at him.

"Did you and the weasel get to have fun making fun of me this morning, Potter? What was the subject this time? My taste in clothes?" the blonde boy drawled.

Harry laughed. "No, how if someone pinched you, you might squeal like a girl."

The blonde pulled back in horror. "I am nothing like a girl! I can't believe you even thought that!"

Harry felt delight at that angry look. Passions always were so close to the surface in those stormy eyes. "No… it was just a joke. And you're right. Nothing at all like.." he was careful how he worded it. He wasn't sure he could ever say a blatant lie. "Here, stop being so hormonal," he muttered and slipping fingers around the nape of that slender neck, he dragged the soft lips to his, covering them and relishing the soft moan that met his deeper sigh of perfection.

But somewhere deep under it all, he couldn't help but agree with Ron.

Draco Malfoy even kissed like a girl.