Harry is summer;
Golden tanned skin, stretching languidly across smooth, long limbs and hard muscles; unruly black hair forever out of place, forever being teased by the wind. Straight white teeth and a smile like rays of sunlight; warm and welcoming.
Harry is summer; he smells like grass and soap and sunshine, and sometimes like mud and sweat. He has brilliant green eyes, twinkling with laughter almost all the time.
Harry has the grace of a bird; free and restless and awkward, somewhat clumsy on the ground but heartbreakingly beautiful in the air. Strong features, high cheekbones, a dash of freckles on the nose, always walking with his heart in the sky.
Harry is fire: rapid and dazzling and warming to the bone, but burning when he needs to.
Harry wears his heart on his sleeve; he's honest and naive and he can't lie. He's innocent like a child sometimes, and will always think the best of someone unless they prove otherwise.
Harry is beautiful for all of that.
Draco is winter;
Pale, perfect skin over pale, perfect limbs. Silvery blond hair, soft and feathery and always always in place. Narrow shoulders, narrow hips, bones as delicate as glass. Except that he's made of steel.
Draco is winter; his eyes are gray and mocking, framed by long, pale lashes. His smile is like the light at a cold sunset; brief and flickering and gone when you blink, and it never reaches his eyes.
Draco has the grace of a cat; sure and elegant and overly confident, with his head high in the air like the world belongs to him. Long neck, carved cheekbones, a slightly pointed face. He knows he's attractive and doesn't hesitate to use or flaunt it.
Draco is ice; smooth and freezing and you never know you took one step too far until it's too late.
Draco doesn't show any emotion; he watches the world with blank eyes and a blank expression. You only see what he chooses to show. He knows where it hurts most, and takes satisfaction in striking there.
Draco looks beautiful.