It was Christmas at Hogwarts, and the Gryffindor common room was packed with students, opening their presents.
Harry put away his newly received book on weird spells such as some to clean your nose, and grabbed a flat, short package with his name scrawled on it in neat handwriting.
He unpacked it and laughed. Was this some kind of joke?
'A comb?' he chuckled. Who would send him a comb.
Immediately he started listing some people who would.
However, who had sent him the comb, was not on that list.
Harry didn't know it yet, but he was in for some hell later.
Knowing his hair, Harry hadn't bothered with the comb before going to breakfast.
He felt eyes boring into his skull and turned around, seeing Malfoy glaring at him fiercely.
Malfoy stood up, brushed the bangs away from his eyes and stalked over.
'What is your bloody problem, Potter?! Can't take a simple hint, can you!? Do you hate me so much? Merlin , you are so…so…ARGH!' with that, Malfoy stalked out of the Great Hall.
'What'd I do?' Harry wondered out loud.
'Isn't it obvious, Harry? He was the one who sent you the comb.' Hermione rolled her eyes at him. 'Well, don't just sit there! Go after him!'
Harry quickly scrambled up and ran out of the Hall.
He opened the Marauders Map and found Malfoy on the fourth floor.
Boy, did he run fast!
'MALFOY!!!!' He screamed down the hall, Malfoy finally stopped pacing.
'Potter.' He scowled as he turned towards Harry.
'What the hell was that for! If you sent me that comb, why didn't you attach a note?'
Malfoy frowned. 'How would you have reacted , then?' he asked Harry.
Harry didn't say anything. 'Thought so.' Malfoy stated and started walking away again.
'Wait! I don't understand, is all. Why do you, of all people , care about my hair?' Harry asked quietly. Malfoy turned around, an unreadable look on his face. Harry rather liked that look, it was almost…pleasant.
'I…Don't you listen when people yell at you?' Harry shook his head. He'd gotten used to getting yelled at, and didn't really pay attention to what was said anymore.
'Of course you don't…' Malfoy muttered darkly. ' In the great hall, what I meant was…that I…I…' he seemed to break down completely. 'You just look really, really hot. Like you've just been shagged. I can't stand it.' Realizing what he'd just said, Malfoy clamped his hand over his mouth.
'You think I'm…hot?' Malfoy nodded. 'And that's why you gave me a comb, instead of just telling me?' Harry asked, amused. Malfoy, however, didn't see the fun in this.
'If you're going to laugh at me, do it now, and stop wasting my time.' He snapped.
'Sorry!'Harry giggled like some school girl. 'But it's just so..so…Wow… I'd never even dreamt of you liking me. Me, Harry Potter.' He was awed.
'What are you talking about? It's not that hard to like you, you know.' Malfoy sneered.
'It isn't?' Harry mused. 'Before I came here, no one liked me. Well, 'cept for Mrs. Figg, but she's a squib.'
'Stop rambling and start giving me a real reaction.' And Harry did.
He stepped forward, reached for Draco's face and kissed him on the lips.
'That good enough a reaction for you?' He breathed. And all Draco could do was nod.
Nod, and kiss him again.
Okay, this was just a random thought.