Firstly, since you clicked on this I'm going to start with a quick thank you.
Secondly, well come to my very first attempt at humour (otherwise known as the result of a late night / early morning near death experience due to the worst cold I've had, which is saying something as I live my life with a constant cold)
Review if you liked and want another attempt at flamboyant Harry Potter, or if you didn't because why not?
Onwards with the madness ...
Draco knew Harry Potter was a bit … strange – not that the word really did justice to the bizarreness that was Harry Potter. Flamboyant is a little closer, not quiet ostentaous … quirky?
Honestly, Draco Malfoy had yet to find the word that was able to describe the Gryffindor.
When he first heard about the famous Boy-Who-Lived he'd been impressed, not everyone could defeat a prolific dark lord before they could walk, so naturally he'd decided to be friends with the boy … that was a MISTAKE!
He'd first met the boy at the station. He was wearing hand-me-down rags and looked about three years younger than he really was. He'd seen him as someone in need of guidance – and a new wardrobe.
He'd approached the boy, offering a handshake and his winning smile, expecting shyness and possibly hostility.
He had not expected the boy to jump him screaming about how he looked 'adorable' like a 'china doll' and that he just had to put on some dark green lipstick cause it would make his eyes look 'magical'.
After that he'd decided to let the Boy-Who-Lived, be the Boy-Who-lived, just so long as it wasn't near him.
The aforementioned boy did not get the memo.
For the rest of the year Harry Potter had; given Snape several bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and skin products which had been refused (although his god father's skin and hair was looking remarkably better); given Professor Dumbledore a subscription to several fashion magazines, which had only encouraged the man to be even more 'avant-garde'; turned a Cerberus into a giant puppy, complete with walks and a purple bow (he had no idea how the boy had managed to find a ribbon that long); redecorated ALL of the common rooms (which was unforgivable even IF the chairs were amazingly comfy); taught Draco the meaning of the words pansexual, asexual, hetro-flexible, BDSM, transgender, cisgender, bisexual, kink, and basically everything else; all while singlehandedly creating the Hogwarts LGBT community.
When it turned out that Professor Quirrel had had You-Know-Who in the back of his head, Harry had just laughed and said he'd known since the first week, and had been having tea parties with the two ever since.
Then came the second year, when he'd shown up petting a basilisk and complaining that he'd smudged his eye liner.
Now it was his third year with the whimsical saviour, and it was already up to a crazy start.
During the dementor check of the train, Harry Potter had willingly KISSED on of them – somehow making it BLUSH – and gave them fashion advice. Turns out not even dementors are allowed to shy away from individuality.
Now, it was time for their very first DADA lesson with the teacher-of-the-year, and Harry Potter was being as insane as ever.
He was sitting happily at the front of the room, wearing bright red skinny jeans and spiked ankle boots with a black, one-sleeved top under his robes. One side of his head had been shaved, the rest left to fall down in inky waves. Too bright green eyes were lined with sliver were fixed on the professor as he bit his maroon lips.
Professor Lupin was – understandably – distracted, stuttering his way through his speech as he taught them the necessary incantation and movements to deal with the boggart.
They all lined up quickly – Potter breaking into a terrifying grin which only meant mischief - and he should know, as the last time Draco had seen it he'd woken up with the worse hangover of his life in nine inch heels and a leather mini dress.
Potter quietly made his way to the front of the line – as EVERYONE wanted to see what he'd do – and stood patiently waiting professor Lupin to remember what he was supposed to be doing.
The man nervously opened the cupboard, stepping back as the door opened.
Draco resisted the urge to blanch as his mother angrily stormed out of the cupboard, only to stop short as Harry Potter gave an ear-splitting scream … of delight.
"YOU ARE ADORABLE!" he cooed, rushing forward and blocking Draco's view of his mother as he picked something off of the floor and gave it the same bone breaking hug he'd given Draco on that very first day.
Draco barely had time figure out that Harry Potter had picked a boggart that had just been his mother after calling it cute when said Potter turned to face them, cradling a small shape in his robes, and turned on his infamous puppy-eyes. "Can I keep her?"
The whole class turned to look at Professor Lupin.
The man looked like he was about to faint, making the occasional chocked sound as his eyes went from Harry, to the boggart, to the class, then back to Harry. Wordlessly – not that the shock would let him talk – he nodded, causing Harry to turn back to the boggart he was petting.
"What to call you? Hmmmmm. AH, I know!" he turned back to the teacher, "You're a werewolf, right sir?"
At this point poor Professor Lupin was in desperate need of Madam Pomfry.
"So you're scared of the moon … therefore, I will call you Mooney."
The man finally fainted.
Meanwhile Harry was obliviously babying the boggart, cooing over her beauty and how she was going to be the very best familiar ever.
Draco slowly made his way up to Harry. "Harry? What does she look like to you?"
The raven haired boy looked up at him, "She looks like a Furby."
Draco quickly searched his head for the toy, shuddering when he remembered, "But those are vial."
"I know, Whale-kun had one and it scared the life out of me."
"But I thought you said she was adorable?" Draco questioned.
Green eyes met his. "She just looked so cute terrifying everyone." The eyes moved to the Professor, "I really hope I didn't do anything to make him faint. Do you think he'll be ok?"
At that moment, Draco realised the one word that could be used to describe Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived, 3rd year Gryffindor, and Draco Malfoy's best friend.
He is ridiculous.