Summary: There is something about Malfoy. And it's distracting Harry.

Author's Notes: Written for Jae's Monthly Drabble Challenge #63 - Distraction.

Thanks to the lovely wendypops and kc404duh for beta-reading. Any remaining mistakes are mine, of course!

Soft Hair and a Velvet Tongue

Despite himself, Harry couldn't stop looking at it. Throughout his eighteen years, he'd questioned his insanity sometimes on a daily basis, but this obsession was something else completely.

Hermione had told him that it was just sixth year all over again, but Harry disagreed. This time he didn't think Malfoy had evil plans and he certainly didn't follow the Slytherin everywhere to see what he was up to, he'd said.

'No, but you just keep staring at him, mate, and that's just as wrong,' Ron had said with a shudder.

Harry, however, couldn't explain it to them. He didn't want Hermione to start analysing this obsession he'd gotten. And he certainly didn't want to see the look on Ron's face if he told him that he was fascinated by the little white blond hairs he'd seen on Malfoy's once-smooth chin all of a sudden during the Quidditch match last week.

Not in the least because that sight had made him wonder if those patches of hair would be as soft as they looked. The thought had been like a Bludger to the head. Literally!

By the time he'd managed to get back on his broom, Malfoy had held the Snitch in his outstretched hand for the first time ever in a match against Harry. His eyes had shined with pride and he'd held his chin up high, giving Harry a close look at the soft-looking hairs again.


Now, almost a week later, he was still looking – staring actually – at Malfoy's chin. In every class they now shared as eighth years and during meals when it was impossible to see something all the way across the Great Hall.

Harry wondered why Malfoy wouldn't spell the facial hair away. Was he afraid it would become more abundant and coarser, vain git that he was? Or did he deliberately let it grow? But why? He tried to imagine the Slytherin with a stylish goatee, which would undoubtedly call attention to his lips.

The mental picture haunted him for the rest of the day. How would it feel against someone's fingers? If someone were to stroke their lips alongside those soft hairs? If Malfoy would kiss someone?

The thought of Malfoy and kissing at the same time wasn't nearly as disturbing as it should be, and wasn't that scary by itself?


The notion distracted him long enough for him to have lost the way back to Gryffindor tower. Irritated with himself, he turned around to find a shortcut to the seventh floor and … froze.

'Potter,' a familiar voice drawled. Malfoy had stepped out of the shadows and stood right before him. Harry tried not to look at the Slytherin's chin or mouth, but the alternative were those silver-grey eyes that watched him intensely. But Harry noticed there was a lack of the usual malice.

'M-Malfoy,' he reacted.

'It has come to my attention that you've been acting very weird since you've taken a Bludger to the head.' Malfoy cocked an eyebrow and Harry watched in fascination as the action made the little blond hairs above his eye move.

'Potter?' Malfoy sounded curious, and almost – well, it couldn't possibly be worried, could it?

'Weird? Me? There's nothing weird!' Harry said defensively. 'What do you want from me, Malfoy?'

The Slytherin stuck his chin in the air in a mock-offended manner and Harry's eyes immediately strayed off again.

'You're acting weird again, Potter.' Malfoy didn't move, though, and Harry didn't seem to be able to take his eyes off the fine, blond hairs he saw up close. Just in time he managed to keep his hand from reaching out and touching.

'It's – I've been noticing – Are you growing a beard?' he blabbered. He felt his cheeks flush and closed his eyes in horror.

'What?' Malfoy sounded incredulous. 'You noticed my –?'

'Well, I just did, okay! No big deal. Probably lots of people have.' Harry didn't dare look Malfoy in the eyes. 'It just looks different. Than mine, that is. Softer, I mean.'

Harry didn't even notice this time that he unconsciously had lifted his hand again until he almost touched Malfoy's face.

Oh Merlin, now would be a very good time for the floor to swallow me!

He wanted to move, to run away, but he just stood there, his hand lingering in mid-air.

Harry waited for something to happen. A sneer, a spiteful laugh, a punch; anything.

When finally something did happen, it was none of those things. Malfoy took Harry's hand and brought it to the side of his face, Harry's thumb against his chin.

Shocked, Harry's head snapped up and startled green eyes met grey ones.

'Is it?' The challenge in Malfoy's voice contradicted the insecurity Harry saw in his eyes for just a moment. He started moving his digit over the wonderful soft hairs and asked absent-mindedly: 'Is it what?'

He felt the skin move under his thumb when Malfoy clarified: 'Is it softer?'

'I – yeah,' Harry breathed.

He hesitated for a moment but then stepped closer and tentatively stroked with his lips against the soft little hairs on Malfoy's chin. The Slytherin gasped and Harry felt how his blood was running faster through the vein under Harry's thumb. Then a strong hand in his hair pulled his head backwards a bit until they could look each other in the eye again.

Time seemed to have stopped. There were no masks this time. Harry felt like Malfoy could look right into his heart. Yet he had no desire to shut his feelings down, whatever they were.

He didn't know what Malfoy saw in his eyes, but suddenly the Slytherin captured his mouth and kissed him. When Harry let out a surprised gasp, Malfoy took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside Harry's mouth and slide it against his. Harry whimpered and the sound only seemed to encourage Malfoy. The fingers in Harry's hair tightened and he felt an arm wrap itself around his waist and pull him closer.

They stood there for Merlin knows how many minutes, kissing and touching, before they desperately needed some air.

'Just as soft as I imagined,' Harry said and he gave a little smile.

The Slytherin smirked before he leaned in and whispered seductively in Harry's ear: 'Imagine how it must feel on the rest of your body.'

The end