This was written for Hogwarts, where I am a Slytherin (hiss hiss sneaky snake), Assignment #6, Media Studies Task 2: (alt) Write about someone taking on a new identity.

.

As always... this fulfills a lot of other prompts... they are listed below.

.

This is a weird fic... oddly satisfying to write, though.

.

To anyone who read my last fic... I wanted to let you know that I'm doing better. I have some pretty great friends who have helped me emotionally, and crutches have helped me physically (even though I loathe using them). Love y'all!

.

Summary: Draco, a suave and cunning business man, is head over heals for Harry Potter, London's favorite model. When Harry gets kidnapped, and with Draco's reputation on the line, how can things get resolved? Well... Draco must become a superhero.

Warnings: THIS IS A PARODY! (That's it... that's my only warning. I literally don't think there is anything else)

Word Count (excluding A/N): 1762

London Sends Kisses

Draco Malfoy, London's most sought-after bachelor and cunning businessman, was in a bit of a bind. Physically, he was fine—more than fine as he looked across the city from his penthouse, his grey eyes flickering over each building that he owned—but emotionally? That was another subject.

Harry Potter, London's second most sought-after bachelor and attractive model, had been kidnapped. Draco shook his head; of course the Golden Boy had to go and get himself captured.

"This, Malfoy..." Draco muttered to himself, leaning against one of his floor-to-ceiling windows, catching the reflection of his beautifully-sharp features and long, blond hair—sometimes he was jealous of himself. "This is why we don't love people, ever. Something bad always follows the fall."

Draco sighed dramatically before looking at his flat-screen TV, the picture of Harry's ransom note frozen on the technological device.

If the kidnapper had asked for money, Draco would have complied immediately—anonymously, of course, as he couldn't have London believing anyone could own his heart—but the kidnapper didn't want riches; the kidnapper wanted a true blooded hero that fit specific requirements: blond hair, grey eyes, thin nose, and slender hands. Furthermore, the hero must be wearing a moss-green clothing item while they saved Harry.

It was a weird list, but Draco couldn't deny that he fit the bill perfectly; his collarbone-length hair was perfectly blond (and almost always pulled into a sleek ponytail or braid); his aristocratic nose, set between his steely grey eyes, was thin; his hands were the slender-ist, which was perfect for playing the piano—something he excelled at; and his entire wardrobe was either green, black, or white, so he definitely had something that was moss-green.

The kidnapper was targeting him, and he was sure that it was because his secret was found out; the kidnapper had to know that Draco was in love with the bright and golden Harry Potter.

"You're lucky you're pretty, Potter," Draco said, whirling towards the singular poster of the model that he kept in his apartment. "Granted, you're not as pretty as me, but you're pretty damn close."

Draco looked over the poster, a gem he had bought within his first week of living on his own and out of his parents' manor, his cold eyes sliding over Harry's perfect half-smile and the gentle woosh of his black, untamed mane. "Oh, stop being a competitive prick, Malfoy," Draco said with a snort. "Potter is prettier than you could ever hope to be, inside and out."

After taking one last glance outside at the magnificent city sprawled beneath him, Draco gave his reflection a smile. "Don't worry, Potter. I'm coming to save you."

…

Draco stepped onto the helipad, his moss-green cape swirling in the wind, fastened fancily at his shoulders with silver clasps with similar ornate designs as the pins holding his hair up in a high bun. Aside from the cape, Draco wore all white, going as far as to wearing a white mask—he couldn't have anyone, aside from the kidnapper, knowing of his identity. Malfoys didn't love people, nor did they perform heroic acts to save anyone, so he knew he had to assume a new identity; he called himself the Peacock.

He would have to… buy the kidnapper's silence, after this whole ordeal was over, or find some other way to keep the twisted being from spillings Draco's darkest secret. But, he was confident that he would find a way. If he could find the obscure meet point that the ransom note had explained (it was on top of the headquarters for the modeling agency Harry worked at), then he could keep a villain quiet.

"You're not who I was expecting." A sing-songy voice cut through the wind, and Draco whirled around to see a young woman with fiery-red hair wearing a small, black dress and golden heels. Had Draco had any inkling of attraction towards women, he was sure he would have felt weak at the knees at the look she was giving him, but Draco was only attracted to men… not men… a single man: Harry Potter (and himself, obviously).

"Aren't you cold?" Draco asked, completely ignoring what she had said previously.

The young woman smirked. "I'm too hot to get cold." Draco couldn't deny it; she was aesthetically pleasing, so her statement made sense.

"Who were you expecting," Draco asked at last, watching the girl, whom he had decided to name the Black Harpy, as she walked closer.

He didn't get an answer; he got knocked unconscious.

…

"You're bleeding." A warm voice woke Draco out of his dreamless sleep. He immediately wanted to go back to that black nothingness; he was standing, half propped up, in a dank cave, his hands tied behind his back. He blinked as the sharp pain in his head started to subside.

"In all that white… you're just like an angel," the voice continued and Draco turned to look at the speaker, his eyes growing wide.

Harry Potter, in all of his masculine perfection, was sitting on an oddly luxurious, purple sofa. Draco would have blushed, if he weren't feeling so indignant. "Hero. Superhero," Draco corrected, annoyed that his voice didn't come out as silkily smooth as it could have. Here was his chance to impress the Harry Potter, and his voice was rough—how mortifying.

"What's your superpower?" Harry asked, his green eyes dancing. Draco noticed that the Golden Boy wasn't tied up or injured at all—he looked as perfect as normal. "Can you fly? Put people to sleep? Shoot fire from your hands?"

"Of course I can, Potter," Draco said with a scoff, rolling his eyes, thinking of his private jet, pharmaceutical shares, and flame thrower (he quite liked the flame thrower). "Are you hurt? Do you know why the Black Harpy captured—"

Harry interrupted Draco with a laugh, a full and boisterous laugh that shook the model's shoulders and elicited tears from those beautiful emerald eyes of his. "You mean Ginny? She would never hurt me!"

Draco was part confused, part turned on by Harry's dazzling smile, and part annoyed that Ginny would never hurt Harry but didn't seem to mind giving him a concussion—did she not know who he was?

With a frown, Draco realized that he specifically didn't want anyone to realize who he was, hence the mask and the fake identity.

"If she didn't want to hurt you, then why kidnap you?" Draco asked curiously, shifting his hands to find that it was only a silk ribbon holding him captive; he easily untied the bow and rubbed his wrists, feeling ultimately confuddled—he didn't like being confuddled.

Harry laughed again. "It was all a ploy… a roleplay game, one could say, between Ginny and Luna. You know Luna? My manager? Well, Ginny is enamoured with her," Harry explained, patting the sofa beside him. "I bet by now the two of them are back at Ginny's flat." Draco only hesitated for a second before lifting his chin and strutting towards the celebrity.

As Draco set his tush on the soft cushions of the sofa, he racked his brains for a memory of Harry's manager. Ah, yes, two years ago, Harry had done a shoot in one of Draco's buildings, bringing his manager along with him. She had blond hair, grey eyes, a thin nose, and slender hands; Draco wanted to punch himself.

"Why are you going along with it?" Draco asked curiously, his voice finally finding that chocolaty smooth richness it usually carried. Harry gave him another dazzling smile.

"Ginny's one of my closest friends—I'd do anything to help her be happy."

Draco sighed, his hands moving up to rub his temples, his eyes closing; normally, he wouldn't show such weakness, especially in front of the love of his life, but his head hurt pretty bad.

Gentle hands compelled Draco to lay on his side and into the warm lap of… Draco felt himself flushing when he felt Harry gently working his hair out of its bun. "Ginny panicked when it wasn't Luna at the helipad," the model said in a soothing voice. "She told me to apologize for her."

Draco, completely lost in the wonderous hands of his crush, made a soft sound of recognition. Though, when Harry tried to pry the mask off of his face, Draco opened his eyes wide and gently slapped Harry's hands away.

"Now, now, Potter," Draco drawled. "A hero must keep his identity secret. I think it best that you only know me as the Peacock."

Harry smiled, his teeth sparkling as prettily as his eyes. "I understand," he said softly. "I feel compelled to thank you, though. May I have a kiss?"

After swallowing hard, Draco nodded, his eyes glazing over slightly as his mind tried to process just what was happening.

As Harry's warm lips met his, Draco conceded that his first adventure as a hero ended quite nicely; he would be willing to save Harry anyday.

…

"It seems like the Peacock has done it again. After he first rescued London's sweetheart, Harry Potter, back in April, this mysterious hero has flown in and saved the model again and again."

Draco inwardly praised himself as he listened to the newscast, looking out his floor-to-ceiling window at the city that he practically owned. He had 'saved' Harry from the Black Harpy, a name that had started to stick with Ginny, just a few hours prior, and he couldn't help the sedated smile that slipped onto his lips.

The media had eaten the story up after the first account, and Harry had fuelled the fire, making Draco's superhero identity known to the world. It was a fun game, but it was only a game, even if the stakes were high

"We are still unsure of the Black Harpy's motives, but with the Peacock protecting our city, the villainess doesn't stand a chance. Potter says, if it weren't for the Peacock, he would constantly be neck-deep in the bird's nest, and nobody wants that."

Draco snorted at that; he didn't doubt that if the Peacock didn't show up every time and whisk Harry off to a dark corner, then Harry would be deep in the birds' nest… while the birds were nesting.

"The Peacock, if you're listening, Harry Potter, and all of London, sends you kisses."

His beautiful reflection smiled at him, and Draco felt his insides warm up. It wasn't often that the cunning Malfoy blushed, but when it came to Harry, Draco was a pile of mush.

Harry had sent kisses, but that wasn't entirely necessary—Draco had received those in person.

A/N 2.0 - Prompts:

Autumn Seasonal:

- Day: September 25th - National Comic Book Day: Write a superhero!au

- Autumn Prompt: (dialogue) "Aren't you cold?" / "I'm too hot to get cold."

- Color: Moss Green

- Flower: Goldenrod - (phrase) 'Golden boy/girl'

- Air Element: (word) fly

- Audrey's Dessert: (frosting - dialogue) "You're lucky you're pretty."

- Ravenclaw Prompt: (trait) Competitive

.

Gris-Gris Bag: (dialogue) "You're bleeding"

.

Writing Clubs:

- Character Appreciation #28: (features) Blond hair

- Disney Challenge Song #3: Oogie Boogie - write about someone being kidnapped

- Cookie's Crafty Corner #2: Write about someone tied literally or metaphorically

- Showtime #8: (color) black

- Amber's Attic: (object) mask

- Lyric Alley #3: You're just like an angel

- Lo's Lowdown Character #5: Write about someone in disguise