So, yes, this is a completely pointless fic, with almost no plot, no character development, and very little by way of proof reading. But in my defence, I have a cold.
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. Neither does the song, it's I'm So Beautiful, as sung by Divine. If you've never heard it, go find a copy to listen to while reading this, or look up Divine on w w w . a l l m u s i c . c o m – it'll make a lot more sense if you do.
Harry settled down in his normal place at the Gryffindor table; between Ron and Hermione and across from Neville. A few seats away, Lavender and Parvati were pinning and braiding each other's hair excitedly; and Dean and Seamus were talking angrily about a dead owl; consulting a sheet of worn parchment whenever they forgot a line.
Yes, it was Hogwarts Talent Night; an occasion designed by Dumbledore to celebrate the end of the War.
Personally, Harry didn't see what all the fuss was about. Why would anyone want that many people watching them? But whether he had any doubts or not, the idea had most decidedly caught on. Harry was even sure that he'd caught Crabbe and Goyle practicing lines from Hamlet.
Crabbe and Goyle's Shakespearian ambitions aside, for the most part the Slytherins were ignoring the whole thing. Malfoy was holding court as usual, dressed in immaculate black robes, a simpering Parkinson glued to his arm. Indeed, with one or two first year exceptions; none of the Slytherins seemed to be dressed to perform.
The other three houses were fully in the swing of things though, Harry mused, watching a Hufflepuff boy dressed as a camel walk past.
Ginny had been singing lines from various musicals all week, in a surprisingly nice voice; Professor McGonagall had offered the Gryffindors help transfiguring costumes; and there was even a rumour that Snape was planning to do a monologue from Dracula.
Harry was snapped out of his musings by Dumbledore declaring that the Talent Night would now begin; and drawing the name of the first performance out of what appeared to be a large iron hamster. Harry settled back, resigning himself to a long evening of off-key renditions of Prince numbers.
He wasn't disappointed, something which he could have done without. There were a few good performances – one of the Ravenclaw fifth years played piano incredibly well; and Dean and Seamus pulled of an amusing re-take of a Monty Python sketch involving a dead owl (Harry had always thought it had been a parrot; but clearly they'd decided to change it); but for the most part, Harry would have prefered to spend the evening doing Potions homework - which was saying something.
So it wasn't surprising that he missed Malfoy's name being called out at first. In fact, if not for the quiet murmurs of shock and gossip, he wouldn't have even looked up to see who the next performer was.
But Ron elbowed him sharply in the ribs, gesturing violently in the direction of the Slytherin table, where Malfoy was getting to his feet.
'What do you think he's going to perform?' Ron asked, eyes still focused on Malfoy. 'Twenty ways to torture your House Elf?'
'Ron!' Hermione hissed. 'I've heard he plays the piano quite well – there's no need to be nasty.'
Seamus flung a stuffed owl at them. 'Be quiet, I want to hear this. I'll bet this'll be enough blackmail material for a year.'
Harry looked towards the stage, where Malfoy was murmuring instructions to the Wizarding Music Player sitting at the side of the stage.
Malfoy turned to face the audience, his robes gapping slightly at the front, revealing an odd amount of pale skin and a flash of... red?
He pointed his wand at his throat, presumably performing a Sonorus Charm. He bowed slightly to the audience, and slipped of the robe, to reveal a...
Harry blinked. And blinked again. He must need new glasses, which was odd, since he'd had them checked only two months ago.
'Ron?' he murmured, poking his friend in the side. 'Is Malfoy wearing a red dress?'
Ron nodded, staring dumbstruck at Malfoy.
'A really short one?' Harry asked.
Ron nodded.
'And four inch stilettos?'
Another nod.
'And fishnets?'
Nod.
'So I don't need new glasses?'
A shake of the head.
Harry turned his attention back to the stage, where Malfoy had just neatly placed his robe and wand to one side. A bouncy disco beat started up. Harry blinked again.
Malfoy was swaying. Harry wasn't sure why this seemed so wrong; or why he should be more worried about how Malfoy's hips were moving from side to side than about the fact that the boy was wearing a red dress. And stilettos and fishnets, his mind supplied. And then Malfoy started to sing.
Out, out tonight Feel like going out In the night I'm gonna walk the street
He was walking forward now, stepped carefully down the stairs leading on to the stage. Harry wondered how Malfoy managed to look that graceful wearing heels that high – he was quite sure that he wouldn't have managed it, himself.
Walk the street I wanna feel the heat Feel the heat There ain't nobody Better than me Can't you see Look at me
He was near the end of the Gryffindor table now, and Harry leaned back to get a better view. He seemed to be singing directly to a group of second years, leaning casually against the edge of the table.
Wild, feeling wild
And I'm burning up deep inside
I wanna let it go, let it go
I'm gonna steal the show
Steal the show
There ain't nobody
Better than me
Can't you see?
Look at me
He stepped back now, standing at the foot of the stage, arms spread wide to display the vivid colour of his dress.
I'm so beautiful You've gotta believe it I am beautiful I'm so beautiful Can't you see? Look at me I said I'm so beautiful Well, everybody's welcome to this point of view We're all beautiful Can't you see?
Malfoy walked back to the Gryffindor table, swinging easily up onto it; and starting to walk down it slowly. Harry wondered whether he was worried about people seeing up his dress.
High, feeling high I'm really gonna shake it
He was near Harry now, then directly in front of him. A stilettoed foot pushed Ron to one side, and then Malfoy was sitting on the edge of the table, his right hand resting lightly on Harry's shoulder. He was singing in his ear, too, and Harry wondered why the Sonorus Charm wasn't deafening him. Perhaps it didn't work that way.
Through the night I'm gonna nail the beat
His left leg swung around, and suddenly Harry found himself with a lapful of Draco Malfoy.
To the floor I'm gonna make you scream
Malfoy was still swaying, Harry realised uncomfortably. Or perhaps swaying wasn't the word, but it felt good, and that was bad; and if Malfoy didn't get off his lap soon he was going to forget who Malfoy was, and where they were, and that no-one knew he was even interested in boys; but somehow that didn't seem as bad as it should have; and why wasn't he pushing Malfoy away anyway?
Scream for more There ain't nobody Better than me
And then Malfoy was gone, pushing back up onto the table, and Harry knew he should be relieved, but Malfoy was still so close; and if Harry slid down a little, he'd be able to see right up his dress. And then Malfoy twisted away, and was lying on the table, head propped on his hands, singing to Neville, who looked to be in a state of shock.
Can't you see? Look at me I'm so beautiful You've gotta believe it I am beautiful I'm so beautiful Can't you see? Look at me
And then Malfoy was on his feet again, parading further down the table; and Harry was able to think again. Why me? Maybe he'd just pre-choreographed it, and I was just sitting in the wrong spot. But I always sit here, surely he knows that? He spends enough time glaring at me.
I said I'm so beautiful Well, everybody's welcome to this point of view We're all beautiful Can't you see? There ain't nobody Better than me Can't you see? Look at me
And Draco – no, Malfoy, since when has he been Draco? - was at the very end of the table now, stepping off, one hand on the shoulder of a stunned third year for balance.
I'm so beautiful You've gotta believe it I am beautiful I'm so beautiful Can't you see? Look at me
And he was walking along between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables now, getting closer to Harry again; and Harry both hoped and feared that he'd go sing to one of the Ravenclaws next.
I said I'm so beautiful Well, everybody's welcome to this point of view We're all beautiful Can't you see? Look at me
And he was behind Harry now, hands on his shoulders; body pressed to his back; now pulling Harry from his seat - I should be objecting, this is Draco – no, Malfoy, I should pull away, sit back down - and spinning him to face Malfoy, hands on his shoulders, face and body too close for comfort.
Can't you see? Look at me Can't you see?
And then Draco was pressed against him, hips still swaying in that damnable way; and all thoughts of fleeing were pushed aside.
High, feeling high I'm really gonna shake it Through the night I'm gonna nail the beat To the floor I'm gonna make you scream Scream for more
And then Draco was gone, pushing Harry back into his seat and swaying away without a backwards glance, back towards the stage.
There ain't nobody Better than me Can't you see? Look at me
And then he looked back, and Harry was almost sure that he winked, and almost as almost sure that he mouthed "Room of Requirement, midnight"; and made a mental note to get his eyes tested again, because surely he needed new glasses.
I'm so beautiful You've gotta believe it I am beautiful I'm so beautiful Can't you see? Look at me I said I'm so beautiful Well, everybody's welcome to this point of view We're all beautiful Can't you see? Look at me Can't you see? Look at me Can't you see? I'm so beautiful You've gotta believe it I am beautiful I'm so beautiful Can't you see? Look at me
But, Harry decided, he would go to the Room of Requirement that night, because Draco Malfoy in a red dress was just too good to pass up.