Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to JK Rowling.
Note: Dusting off an old throwback. I don't know if she's still on this site, but I'd like to dedicate this story to Rika-San, who graciously took this off of my hands years ago, and came under some heat for it. I can't thank her enough for trying, so any changes she may have made, I'll leave them alone. Between the reviews I got when I posted and the reviews miss Rika-San got when she posted, I decided plenty of people already read the first two chapters, so I'll try to update all the chapters I have written out all at once.
Note #2: I'm eager to get this posted which is why there's only one new chapter. However, I would like to remind everyone that there's about a 4 year gap between the first two chapter and the new one. Hopefully my writing has improved in that time, because persoanlly I hate the first two chapters .
It's An Art
Out of all the rooms in Hogwarts Community College, the Art Room had to be the school favorite. Ceiling tiles were painted in neat designs and murals, in memorial of the seniors who long since graduated. The walls were painted a stylish black, with charcoal and graphite sketches pinned wantonly to the walls. The desks were equipped with Sharpie markers where students could sign the names along with little messages like 'art rocks' and whatnot.
The room was Draco Malfoy's home away from home, a century Gothic neighborhood where every neighbor understood the other. He could let his inhibitions flow via acrylic paint and chalk pastels, and his only harsh critic was himself. It was his ideal Heaven.
The young blonde stared wistfully at the six-foot mass standing in the middle of the class, covered with a horrible-looking pink tarp. Professor Trelawney, the resident 'weirdo' of HCC, stood before it, smiling as she waited for the class to take their seats.
"Alright, everyone, take your seats. Today you'll all be doing simple sketches. I know, not to your standards, too easy, you might all be thinking." She was right. "But, this will be no ordinary sketch. You're subject is the most common animal on the face of the earth. You'll be drawing your peer, your closest friend, your worthiest foe, you undying love and your burning passion! You'll be drawing one of your own," she grabbed the tarp and yanked it away dramatically. "In his most vulnerable state."
The class erupted in a collective gasp as the tarp fell to reveal a six-foot Greek god, nude, in a pose similar to that of David. His tanned skin seemed to glow under the fluorescent, and emerald green eyes peered up from under an ink black fringe.
Draco's eyes, wide in admiration, trailed over the noble form, taking in every muscle, every flaw (or lack thereof), and even lingered on the large tool, resting amongst a nest of thick black curls.
"Class, this is Harry. You will be sketching this…masterpiece, how you view him in your own mind, your own thoughts…" Trelawney winked at Draco. "Your own fantasies. Now, get started." She snapped before returning to her desk. Draco gazed a few minutes more before he took out his sketchbook and went to town. A gentle swish for the arm, a nice curve for the head…a smaller curve for the head. The blonde looked up at the God, not noticing the smile on his face as the pencil traced out the taut form, that perfect body. Oh the things he would do if this man was a student here. 'Impossible,' he thought 'I would've seen him by now.' Draco snapped out of his reverie when the model gave him a dazzling smile. He could feel his cheeks flush to about a thousand degrees before he ducked his head down and continued to sketch.
"Draco!" a voice called from the back of the class room, just as the blonde finished packing up. He whipped around just as Blaise came trotting up to him, a broad smile on his face. Blaise was about as Bi as they come. He would ogle anything with nice legs and a heartbeat (which Draco assumed was only because it was illegal if it did not, in fact, have one.) "How about that model, eh. Gods, he was gorgeous. Man, what I would do for a night with that. I want him almost as much as I want you, Drake." he slowly ran his hand up Draco's pale thigh, almost succeeding in making it all the way up that tiny skirt before-
"Don't you have a girlfriend?" Draco asked, smirking. Blaise blanched visibly and snatched his hand away.
"Way to ruin the mood, love. And besides, I would hardly consider Pansy a 'girlfriend', more like...a pet. You see, we don't get romantic, because you don't get romantic with your dog, do you? Of course not."
"Wait, what do you mean by pet?"
"Well, I feed her, tell her how pretty she is, play with her once in a while, and then just leave her alone and let her sleep." Draco laughed.
"Blaise, that's horrible." he shouted, trying to feign anger, but the shit-eating grin on his face betraying it. The young man just shrugged, linking his arm with Draco's as they walked out of the class room.
"How's the new job going mate?" Ron Weasley asked as Harry jumped into the backseat of the jeep, now fully clothed (a/n: sorry, ladies).
"Meh, it was a lot better than I thought it would be. A lot of weirdos in that class though. There was this one boy, kept giving me these…hungry looks, like he was about to jump up and rape me or something." Hermione, Ron's girlfriend, laughed.
"Come on, Harry. Was there anyone you may, you know, fancy?" she asked, pulling her huge sunglasses down over her eyes. The boys scoffed.
"Come on, Herm, it's not like-"
"Well, there was this one bloke…or…at least I think it was a bloke." Hermione shot her boyfriend a look that screamed 'I told you so' before letting Harry continue.
"He…was gorgeous. This silvery blonde hair and platinum blue eyes and these petal pink lips." There was a long pause before the entire jeep burst into a fit of giggles.
"Oh gods, Harry. Who knew you could be so romantic." Ron belted out, still chuckling lightly. Hermione hit him, playfully, on the arm.
"But, seriously. Harry, maybe you should talk to this person. Did you get his name at least?"
"No. I think the teacher called him Draco, but I'm not sure…"
"Draco? As in Draco Malfoy?" Harry shrugged.
"I guess. Why?" Ron chuckled darkly.
"Harry, let me tell you now, mate, do not, I repeat, do NOT get involved with the Malfoy's. They're bad news, and nothing but." Harry just shrugged once more and sat back, enjoying the rest of the ride. He knew all about how Arthur Weasley left his family for Narcissa. It was tragic, really. Leaving behind seven children and a loving wife, for a woman who started out as nothing more than a drunken tryst. It was also foolish on his part. What did he have to offer Narcissa Malfoy that Lucius didn't already give her? She had wealth, a loving husband, a beautiful 'baby boy' as she liked to call Draco, while all Arthur had was a run-down old one-story, seven rowdy children, and a job that just barely put enough food on the table for the four children that were left, let alone enough for all nine of them. Last anyone heard, Arthur was last seen at a pub in London somewhere.
Despite his friend's tale, Harry couldn't very well slight Draco for the sins of his father, though he could understand how Ron could. All he knew was that he had to take a chance and get to know him better.
A/N: Nothing new.