27. The Missing Shirt

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 Harry and the rest of the 8th years woke up with a light heart.  Like a big weight had been removed from them, and they couldn't wait to see what the rest of the day had in store.  Classes had been cancelled for the day, and they were allowed to do what they wanted.  The teachers had meetings to attend, and so after breakfast it was determined that they would go to Hogsmeade.  Harry had missed out on the first visit, and was looking forward to it.  He had glanced over at Draco last night, when they had spoken about snogging, ignoring the silence that followed, and thought he saw a wicked smile on Hermoine's face.  After that her and Pansy were huddled in a corner whispering to each other.

Great, he thought.  They probably told all the others that he had feelings towards the Slytherin, and wondered if it were that obvious.  He was feeling extremely jealous and possessive of Draco lately, and hated it when anyone would sit next to him, or even touch him.  That was his job.  Only it wasn't.  Well, not yet anyway.  After his shower, he got dressed in a skin tight white denim, and he wanted to wear his favorite shirt.  The black one with the buttons.  Only it wasn't in his closet.  He had looked everywhere, and knew that it had been washed, because he had worn it just last week.  

Not wanting to be late, he finally gave up and chose a light pink one instead, and made his way to the great hall.  The others had left already, when he suddenly remembered that the shirt he had been looking for had been on his bed when Draco had barged in to talk to him.  Smiling mischievously, he entered the hall.  Pausing for effect, he scanned the hall, only to find that he couldn't see the blond man anywhere.  "Good morning Professors", he greeted.  "Good morning everyone", he smiled.

"I'm looking for a snake.  He has blond hair, gorgeous silver eyes, and he thinks he's Merlin's gift to the wizarding world.  A very snarky attitude, about so high", Harry indicated his length, "and he goes by the name of Draco Malfoy.  Has anyone seen him?", he asked very politely.  

"What do you want Potter?", said Draco loudly, popping his head up from under the table.  He had known that Harry was accost him today, and had been looking forward to it. 

"Found him!", said Harry.  Walking over to their table, he pointed a finger at Draco and said in a booming voice, "You're wearing my shirt Draco.  I want it back".  Draco smirked at him, as if to say how dare you accuse me of such nonsense.  "This is not your shirt, this is my shirt.  It's my size you great brute", he snapped.  "Really, so you wouldn't mind proving that it is yours then", answered Harry.  Draco began to panic, but being the proud Malfoy that he was, his face never showed it.

"This shirt was on my bed, with all my other shirts that came back from the laundry.  That makes it mine.  If you like it so much, I can give you the name of the shop where I purchased it", he said with a snarkiness that Harry found irresistible.  

"Well I'll take that as a no, and since you can't prove that it is your shirt, I however can", and he walked to where Draco was sitting.  Taking Draco's chin in his one hand, he turned the collar outward to read the label.  There it was, a great big L for Large.  Draco was anything but Large.  "Well looky looky here, it's a size Large, and there's my name.  Harry Potter.  Unless your name is Harry Potter, that is my shirt Draco", he said, loving the fact that Draco was wearing a part of him.

"Take your hands off me Potter.  This is my shirt, end of story", and he shook his chin out of Harry's hands, immediately missing the heat.  Closing his eyes, he realized that he had to admit defeat to Draco.  But not without the final word.  Pointing a finger at him he said, "You're a spoilt brat, you know that.  Keep the damn shirt Draco, I have others", and he sat down opposite him, and started to eat a bacon sandwich.  

Everyone in the hall had been watching them with keen interest.  Especially the teachers.  Dumbledore knew about their feelings for each other, and couldn't wait for the grand finale.  He had even put money on it.  Yes, this year was definitely going to be different with a touch of romance.  Hard core romance, if his guesses were right.  

The other students in the hall were confused.  Weren't they enemies?  But then one by one, they remembered the speech that Harry had given.  Saw how they all sat at one table, and spoke civilized to each other.  So, changes were coming. Was this what Harry meant when he had said that he knew this year was going to be epic?

The 8th years were trying their best not to show their enthusiasm.  If Harry and Draco found love in each other, willing to look past everything they had been through together, they would be the talk of Hogwarts for many years to come.  The sexual tension between the two was quite obvious.  Nothing subtle about the way that Harry looked up whenever he heard Draco's name or his voice.  Anything to do with the Slytherin, Harry would pay rapt attention.  And this in turn, made them pay attention to him.  He didn't know any of this.

Eating his bacon sandwich, he stirred some sugar into his coffee.  All the while, keeping his eyes on Draco Malfoy.  Looking at him from the neck down, he surveyed his whole body, to the long slim fingers on his hands.  He knew what those hands had felt like on his face.  He wouldn't mind finding out how they felt on other parts of his body too.  God willing.  "Harry Potter, why are you blushing?", asked Hermoine.  He looked up at her, aware that he had been caught in the act.

"No reason, just um, thinking", he answered with a dry throat.  She smugly smiled at him, and the only response he got was a 'hmm mm' from her.  The others turned to look at him as well.  So did Draco.  Raising one brow, he looked at Harry and smirked.  Harry hated his smirk.  He also loved his smirk.  He wondered what else that beautiful mouth could do, and felt a stirring in his denim.

Holy shit, he had it bad.  Bad for Draco Malfoy.  But the beauty of it was, he knew that Draco felt the same, and wondered if he could make Draco crazy the way he was doing to Harry.  Except Draco wasn't actually doing anything.  He was just being Draco.  And that right there was the problem.  You don't just be Draco Malfoy.  The way he walked, the way he ate, the way he studied, everything with such poise and perfection.  That's it, Draco was perfect.  He could never compete with perfection.  But he was damned sure going to try.

He also realized that he wouldn't mind seeing Draco in more of his clothes anyway.  Always a good reason to rip them off him.  




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