A/N: Silly little drablet. 256 words of Harry/Draco nonsense – from a plot bunny with the words "green silk underwear".
Fine Craftsmanship
"Malfoy. What the fuck are these?"
Harry stood in the doorway, holding a pair of green silk women's knickers.
"You're not wearing anything under your trousers, are you?" Malfoy said with a smirk.
Harry blushed, then glared at him. "That is neither here nor there. What did you do? Or rather... how did you...?"
"A simple Switching Spell. I'm wearing yours." He unbuttoned his pants, pulled them down, and revealed that he was wearing red boxer shorts with Snitches printed on them. "So bourgeois."
"Did you just insult my underwear?" Harry asked. "Forget it. I don't want to know. They're better than yours, anyway."
"Excuse me?" Draco said, looking highly affronted, or as highly affronted as one can look with his pants around his knees.
"They're ladies' knickers." He held them up as if they were an old pair of socks that had been sitting in the sun for three decades and were now threatening to get up and move to Guam of their own accord.
"They're not ladies' knickers."
"They're silk. And green. And they've got a snake on them."
"A trouser snake?" he sniggered.
Harry tactfully chose to ignore that. "And... what the... has your mum sewn your initials into the back?" He held them up to reveal that, indeed, the letters DLM were carefully sewn, in silver stitching, into the arse of the underwear.
"They are French and expensive!" Draco said, snatching the underwear from his grasp. "You just don't appreciate fine craftsmanship."
"Right," Harry said. "Can I have my underpants back yet?"