Drarry Oneshots 2

A Touch of Silk

Top!Harry

Bottom!Draco

Summary: Harry has won a bet and Draco Malfoy has to serve him afternoon tea while wearing a dress. This should be amusing, Harry thinks.

Author: raitala (on ao3)

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As soon as the door opened Harry knew that he was in trouble. Serious trouble. He bit his lip and stared at Draco Malfoy.

Everyone involved would readily admit that things had got a bit heated at the last staff Cribbage night. After that awkward occasion when Dean Thomas, the art master, had ended up winning Septima Vector's family tiara they had stopped playing for cash stakes. Instead they exchanged promise notes, mostly marking duties or the overseeing of detentions. But for some reason they had all got a bit carried away this month.

That was the reason why Harry was knocking at Draco Malfoy's study door of a Sunday afternoon expecting to be served tea. Malfoy answered the door wearing a dress. That wasn't what surprised Harry, as the terms of the offer on the table had been that he would host afternoon tea to the winner whilst wearing a frock. It had all sounded bloody hilarious at the time. Sprout's Greengage Wine possibly had something to do with that.

No, what Harry was taken aback by was the dress itself and quite how good Malfoy looked in it. It was grey, with a soft glowing sheen to it. The skirt was long, falling all the way to the ground; full and puffy so that it seemed to settle around him like a cloud. On top it fitted Malfoy tightly, with half sleeves that frothed with lace around his elbows. The neckline was so low it showed half his chest with a sort of neckerchief of the same lacy stuff tucked around him. His face was powdered pale with a little black patch in the shape of a star stuck high on his cheekbone. He should have looked utterly ridiculous, but somehow he didn't.

Bloody Malfoy, Harry thought. Only he could turn the good honest fun of a bloke in a dress into something weirdly elegant.

"Are you just going to stand there and stare, or are you going to come in?" Malfoy asked, turning around with a swish of skirts. Assuming Harry's compliance, he headed back into the room, calling over his shoulder for Harry to close the door behind him.

Malfoy didn't mince or step daintily, as somehow he ought to in that dress. He walked like he normally did, or strode, with the skirts billowing behind him. The way he moved drew attention to how ridiculously broad his shoulders were for the dress, how lacking in curves he was. At the back of the skirt, on a pile of froof, sat a fat satin bow. 'He looks like he's been giftwrapped,' Harry's mind supplied, before he shook his head and followed Malfoy into his study.

"Do take a seat, Potter," said Malfoy, gesturing to the sofa. There wasn't usually a sofa in Malfoy's study. On those few occasions when Malfoy had offered drinks in his rooms, Harry had noticed how little furniture there was. A large, light room, lined with bookshelves, and just Malfoy's desk and chair and a couple of smaller wooden chairs for students to sit in during tutorials and office hours. Malfoy must have transfigured the desk and chairs because now there was a large, plump, dark grey sofa, scattered with cushions, and two dainty arm chairs arranged around a low tea table.

"Er, thanks." Harry felt awkward and a bit anxious, and absurdly like he should have worn a shirt. He perched uncomfortably on the sofa. He had a flash-back to sitting on Mrs Figg's sofa as a child, but Mrs Figg had smelled of cat and under-laundered clothes, whilst Malfoy smelt ... Right, that was it. Harry categorically refused to think about how Malfoy smelled. Honestly! Malfoy was the one who ought to be awkward and embarrassed. He was the one in the dress, for fuck's sake.

"Will you take tea, Potter?" Malfoy enquired.

"Er, yes. Thanks."

Malfoy stooped over the tea table and picked his way deftly between little bits of china and shining silver. The sun was streaming in the windows, which stood open. It was never stuffy in the castle, but the air felt warm and heavy. The distant shouts of children out in the grounds were faint and far away.