Well, this one is dedicated to my lovely friend and beta, Aribh1306. Thank you honey! and thank you for reading!

He wanted to be pretty.

Sure, he was handsome and, of course he wasn't self-councious about it, but Tom didn't want to be handsome. He wanted to be pretty.

So there he was, sitting in front of his mirror, trying to make his eyelashes look bigger. After some time doing this, Tom got a lot of practice in applying make-up. Modesty aside, he had a good eye for what would highlight his beloved, androgynous face. The blood-red lipstick, the rice powder, those dark eye-shadows that would make him even more mysterious.

With his collection of make-ups (all stolen from the girls at Slytherin's dorm) proudly displayed on his dressing table, he'd work all afternoon until he was happy. Then he would go to the dresses and jewellery.

Now, dresses were harder to steal, so Tom had to obtain them by another method: buying them himself. He shudders to think what would his faithful minions do if they knew that their Lord liked to dress up as a girl.

Not his fault that nature made his slim silhouette perfect for those oh-so-short dresses. And pantyhose. And high-heels.

But mostly pearls.

Putting his favourite necklace (stolen from Avery's mother), Tom started dancing alone in his room. Ah, the joys of having a suite just for himself! Enchanting his music-box (where else would he put his jewellery? After all, anyone could be a thief!), he was lost in his world.

So lost he didn't hear the door being opened.

Though he did feel when a pair of arms hugged him from behind.

Snapping his eyes wide open, he turned his neck to see an amused Abraxas holding him, tightly, against his body. How was he going to escape from this situation? If Abraxas arms were any indication, he wasn't.

"Now, what do we have here?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"It... it is not what it looks like, Abraxas." Tom stuttered.

"Well, are we seeing the same thing?" Still pressing the boy, he moved them in front of the mirror. Tom looked at his blushing, frightened reflexion, wondering about what was going to happen now.

"I don't know you, my. . . lady." More blushing from Tom and a smirk from Abraxas. "But I see a pretty lady that looks really good in those stolen pearls." And then he kissed the neck of Tom.

"You are a charmer, Mr. Malfoy," Tom whispered, playing along.

"So are you Miss Riddle."

"What are you going to do now?" That was the golden question.

"I was going to dance a little bit with you, pet, since you dressed up for me, and then I was thinking of some other. . . Activities, if you are willing."

He definitely was feeling not only pretty, but desirable.

"Of course, sir."

Tom never was going to lock that door again.