A/N: This is mildly slashy. Don't like? Don't read. Do like? I love you, too.
Disclaimer: If I did own Harry Potter and all it's characters, do you really think I would have killed off Sirius? I way do not own. I only own the plot [kind of].
Harry Potter is an artist. Harry Potter has also not told his friends about his secret indulgence. When he draws, he doesn't think. He only feels. His hand flies down the paper, without giving one thought as to how it will turn out. He only feels: he feels love for his subject; jealousy for the one who has captured his subjects heart, for surely someone must have snatched up this heavenly being, this blonde Adonis; and he feels his self-hatred for feeling this way when he knows that it is wrong, not because his subject was male, but because he was supposed to loathe, not love, him; but most of all he feels passion: his passion for drawing, his passion for feeling freely and not having to bottle it all up inside, and, strongest of them all, his passion for one Draco Malfoy.