While I’m writing my pierced!Harry fic, I can’t help but think of pierced Draco (or at least, pierced in a diff place than in my fic).
Like, what if Draco comes back to Eighth-Year with his eyebrow pierced, but he doesn’t use it to flirt. He just ignores Potter. Whenever Potter does something stupid, or tries to start shit, rather than insult him like usual, he just raises an eyebrow. Just that one eyebrow, sporting that piercing. His distaste with the whole matter obvious.
And each time, Harry just sort of, trails off and loses focus. Because Malfoy’s piercing is oddly nice to look at, once he get’s over the shock of it, and having one eyebrow up like that highlights the aesthetically pleasing architecture of his face…and Harry shakes himself and storms off. Because he was just thinking how attractive Malfoy looked and just, no.
But even noticing this, Draco still doesn’t tease or flirt, even if he’s starting to feel tempted. He just keeps raising that eyebrow. It stops shit from starting, it stops things from turning into fights. It makes his last year at Hogwarts peaceful, and without Potter fighting him, no one else seems to try.
And Harry steadily becomes a mess for it. Seeing Malfoy raise that pierced eyebrow at him, that look of casual distaste. Slowly, he starts to do the most stupid things to get him to keep doing it. He’s escalating. He’s making a complete arse of himself. He’s completely transparent.
And still, Draco just keeps raising that eyebrow.
Finally, at the leaving feast, Harry pulls a stunt of epic stupidity, and the whole school is sort of both numb to this by now, but also still amused. Draco is struggling not to laugh, because that’s been getting harder and harder. Because Potter is such an idiot. How did such an idiot defeat the Dark Lord? But he pulls the usual expression at him.
But the look on Potter’s face. He’s exhilarated. Distracted, yes, but exhilarated. And Draco thinks that maybe it’s time he stops playing Potter’s game. Because without realising, he’s started to enjoy that look on Potter’s face just as much as Potter has been enjoying his expression of disdain.
So things need to stop. Potter is one brave idiot, but he’s not truly stupid. So Draco leaves the hall, and waits for him. When Potter stumbles out, he notices Draco immediately, as he always does. Draco turns and walks away, down a side corridor, throwing a look over his shoulder. Potter gets with the plan and follows him.
As soon as they’re out of the way, Draco whirls around, grabs him by his shirt, shoves him against the wall, and snogs him. He’s ready to be pushed away. He’s ready to be punched. Because, for all that they’ve been playing this game, Potter is no idiot, and they’d be nothing short of a disaster, and a little physical attraction isn’t…
But Potter is kissing back. Potter’s mouth is opening beneath his. He’s grasping at Draco’s clothes, his hair. He’s pulling him closer. He’s moaning.
And Draco has miscalculated. He’s misread. Because Potter is far from trying to stop him. And really, maybe he should stop them. But he can’t. He can only clutch Potter more tightly, kiss him more desperately. Those reasons he had for stopping their game are slipping from his mind. All he can think of is Potter’s mouth, Potter’s body. Potter’s hands clutching at him. Making Potter make that sound again.
The next day at breakfast, before they all leave Hogwarts, Potter is pulling some stunt at the Gryffindor table. He’s trying to juggle. He’s an idiot. He looks over and catches Draco’s eye. Draco feels his face warm up, but he can’t stop himself. He raises one eyebrow, and sneers. Potter’s face lights up. It also heats up. Until they’re both red-faced, and staring at each other across the hall.
And Draco is rather glad he lost that bet with Blaise, that he was too stubborn to back down. Because he’s never loved his piercing more.
