What Every Refined Young Wizard Must Know
Draco likes to draw Harry Potter.
It used to be that he would draw anything. His mother insisted upon drawing lessons when he was very small. Drawing lessons, Latin lessons, French, Ballroom, and Speech lessons. All the things a proper refined young wizard must know (How to speak properly! How to lead a young pretty thing in a waltz! How to be perfect!), Draco was forced to learn. He had hated all of them with an intense passion. All except for drawing. He was quite good at it, especially with charcoals, and had taken to carrying around bits of the stuff in his bag, turning papers and the edges of book pages smoky black. Boring class notes were peppered with disjointed sketches of classmates, of potions tools, of cornish pixies peeking from behind cage bars. He would draw to keep himself busy, capturing scenes in the common room or just sketching the shape of his robes laying on the floor. It wasn't really a hobby; it wasn't that much a part of his life to be a hobby. But soon, every sketch eventually seemed to be of Harry Potter. And that's when it became an obsession.
Occasionally, Draco will scribble an amateurish cartoon of Potter and charm it over to the Gryffindor with a smirk. But what Potter doesn't know is that Draco's parchments are all covered in beautifully done profiles of the face of The Boy Who Lived. Sometimes it's just the scar or the eyes--oh, the eyes. Draco draws them in charcoal and then accents them with the green ink of his quill. He gets a perverse pleasure out of using Slytherin colors to beautify these drawings of Harry Potter. So very, very ironic. He draws Harry's hands gripping his broomstick in mid-flight from memory; the image comes to him one random evening when he's lying in bed and drawing from wand light. That drawing leads to other places-- the dark, wet, lonely corners of Draco's mind that he very rarely acknowledges--and it leads to sketches of those calloused hands gripping other things, connected to arms connected to shoulders connected to long neck connected to face contorted in perfect pleasure. Draco burns these bits of parchment the next morning and tries not to think of them. Of course, it's when Draco begins to include himself in the drawings that he can't bring himself to burn them. He tucks them away in a secret panel of his school trunk. In Potions, when he thinks of those secret fantasy drawings, he makes another cartoon of a bludger slamming into the Gryffindor's head, and charms it to fly directly into Potter's lap.
What every refined wizard must know is how to repress, and Draco does it beautifully.