*Since I've been practically obsessed with Drarry, I've decided to throw together a quick Trans!Draco fic for Transgender awareness week (November the 14th-20th) Sorry that it's very thrown together and not fine tuned or well done enjoy.*
Trans!Draco
"You'll never be anything more than a scared little boy living in your father's shadow!"
The entire class inhaled sharply as the famous, 'golden boy' Potter finally snapped at his well-known enemy: Draco Malfoy. Snape's cold clammy hand on the back of Harry's neck did nothing to cool the livid boy's nerves, however, Malfoy's face sent a chill down his spine.
Snape's office was so dark that the he wondered how the professor could see whatever it was he was scrolling onto his parchment. At the moment Harry was less worried about Snape and more concerned with the look he put on Malfoy's face. It was only there for a moment but he knew what he saw, this scarred boy had more than seen it before, he had worn it, every time someone told him he had never and would never do anything important, every time he was told he was worthless as a child.
"Where's Malfoy?" Harry's constantly annoyed voice (when speaking with Snape) cracked the silence and stopped Snape's flicking quill.
"I will be dealing with Mr. Malfoy separately." the raven haired professor drolled out in a grating voice, "I believe you should be more concerned with yourself. You're 'family' will be hearing of this Potter."
"That shouldn't be necessary, Severus.." Dumbledore's kind voice floated between the teacher and pupil, entirely transforming the air in the dreary office. "Mr. Potter will be punished, that I can assure you, but his.. relatives need not be bothered. I dare say it would do no good, to anyone." The headmaster's thoughtful and hesitant instruction ended with a small glance and near smile toward Harry and as always, with McGonagall prancing in behind him.
"Detention, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Malfoy will join you." Professor McGonagall's arching brow and high tone conveyed her annoyance perfectly.
xoxoxoxoxxooxox
This time it was McGonagall who held detention, she apparently needed help sorting old magical textbooks, although Harry could assume that it would take a mere flick of the wand for a witch like her. The punishment must have been purposefully mind-numbing.
Stacks of books filled the tops of every desk in the classroom in high piles.
The professor didn't waste any time putting Harry to work. "You will sort these by year, and If you finish you will sort them again, by subject." And so Harry began, just like that. He had only started on the first stack when Malfoy finally strolled in, apparently when it wasn't Snape he didn't mind being late.
"Mr. Malfoy," the professor began, "I expect punctuality when one is already being punished, perhaps you would like to stay an extra hour?"
"Sorry, professor," the pompous pureblood's tone didn't match his words, he sounded about as entitled as ever. Sometimes Harry thought there was no way that anyone could think that highly of them-self, sometimes it felt like the boy was over compensating.
"Potter, you will inform Mr. Malfoy on your instructions, and if you please, start at the beginning," McGonagall gestured to the farthest back desks in the room before turning abruptly and gliding toward her desk gracefully. As soon as she turned gray eyes clashed with green.
The lion-hearted and snake-eyed boys worked side by side for the better part of an hour without so much as a glance, Harry seething all the while.
Of course, he was over compensating thought Harry, he can act as tough as he wants in Harry's face but the rest of the day he struts around with his nose in the air like a spoiled school girl. Harry, as usual, lost track of his thoughts on Malfoy's pompous attitude and ended up thinking about all of the subtleties and quirks he noticed about his 'nemesis' when he wasn't looking, crossing his ankles under his chair, pushing his fingers through his ever lengthening blonde hair, his ever so slightly crooked smile, and how when he smirked broad enough he would show one perfect tooth and a far dimple would appear on the back of his cheek...
Once the pair had almost finished sorting through the first desk Harry's pent-up attitude had subsided and the guilt from Snape's office had returned, so the Gryffindor boy worked up enough nerve to put aside his pride for a moment.
"I'm sorry," Harry said hardly louder than a mumble.
"Shove off!" Malfoy hissed without looking up from his sorting.
"I apologized!" said Harry in disbelief. The light haired boy didn't respond or even acknowledge Harry's attempt. Malfoy had always known how to get under Harry's skin, "I bet your father is just as thick headed as you are." Now the boy who only moments ago had set down his pride and apologized was purposefully trying to get at the cold young man next to him, but this time it didn't seem to have any effect.
Maybe it had been something else he had said. As Harry pondered his earlier words, trying to recall exactly what they were the boys ran out of books on the first desk and meandered slowly toward the next.
"...You'll never be.." Harry began muttering to himself, he almost had it. "You'll never be your father?" he whispered to himself, still eyeing Malfoy. No, that wasn't it... aha! "You'll never be anything but a scared little boy." the spiteful young Gryffindor said under his breath, inches from the now scowling Slytherin. "What's the matter Malfoy? Too much of a 'scared little boy' to say something?" Emerald eyes stayed steady but behind them Harry knew it was juvenile to push him like this. Pale gray eyes flashed back at the emerald ones, they were filled with anger and then in a second saddened with belief.
It only took one look for one split second for Harry to regret putting that look back on even Malfoy's face. Harry had more than the lightning scar on his forehead, he had been abused and bullied everywhere he went for his entire life and he knew it wasn't hard to start believing what other people said about you. Harry didn't pipe up for the rest of detention, he simply hung back silently.
xoxoxoxooxoxoxox
Four desks had been completed when McGonagal released the pair and ordered them each to go directly to their dormitories.
It was a cold gray evening and it suited Malfoy perfectly as he attempted to storm away brooding, but bleeding heart Harry chased after the shaken pureblood and caught him by the shoulder.
"I'm sorry!" Potter said firmly but Malfoy only glared daggers silently before turning away again. The desperately guilty brunette jumped in front of him catching his stormy eyes with his own. "No," he insisted, " listen. I shouldn't have said that, I was just trying to get back at you. But I know I shouldn't have-"
"You don't KNOW anything, Potter." Malfoy stepped closer, quickly, revealing the difference in height more notably than ever. "You're pathetic. And your measly quips about my father mean Nothing." Harry wanted to be afraid or sorry but Malfoy's eye's seemed almost hollow the closer he got, and it was hard to afraid of someone who smells so sweetly.
"Malfoy.." Harry hesitated, he didn't understand what got to the boy so deeply if not his father but he knew he couldn't just ASK his sworn enemy. The almost defeated Gryffindor stood silently staring into wounded gray eyes framed by long golden lashes and flawless ivory skin. After a moment of empty silence and confused thought, the snobbish boy's shoulders fell and his pale eyes dropped as he turned to walk away.
He couldn't have taken more than a few steps before Harry lurched forward and grabbed Malfoy's thin, snowy wrist gingerly, he finally realized the accusation that had been following Draco Malfoy around since birth: boy.
"I'm sorry, Malfoy.." guilt cracked Harry's voice tellingly.
"What are you on about, Potter?" Malfoy asked but the malice in his voice was clearly false and no one took away or let go of the Slytherin's soft wrist that Harry was still holding gently.
"You can't listen to what people say." Harry was dead serious and looking as deeply into Malfoy's crumbling gray eyes as he could, "I used to believe that what people called me was true, it was what I was because it was all I ever heard. I believed them every time they called me useless, and I believed that I would never amount to anything, because it was what I was told my entire life. Draco no one can tell you who you are. You know who you are better than anyone else."
Draco stood in complete shock, stormy eyes began to water like clouds about to rain and the Slytherin slipped away, dashing toward the nearest bathroom.
The tears were quickly whipped away clearing the view into the mirror as Draco's hands gripped the sink tightly. It took a long time of shaking, sniffling, and staring deeply into the reflection for the facade of a Slytherin boy to disappear and a glimpse of the budding girl inside to stand staring at her reflection.