Blue and White Stripes
This was probably the only time Draco Malfoy would ever be caught looking remotely sheepish. Including past, present, and future lives.
"Er. 'Ello, Professor." Even an uncomfortable Malfoy had dignity to save, after all.
The look that McGonagall gave him was nothing new, but it still made him shiver the slightest bit. Then again, that could have been attributed to the fact that he was wearing a sailor's suit and the draft was rather chilly.
"Mr. Malfoy, do you care to tell me why you are wearing clothing generally found in the women's section?" Oh, was she mad. And perplexed. But mostly mad.
"Professor! This suit is entirely stylish, thank you very much! I'm sure that if you were to ask my father about it, he would freely admit to wearing the fashion in his spare time. We've even gone shopping together and discussed my crush on Potter, though I'd prefer you didn't tell anyone-"
"Mr. Malfoy!"
Draco blinked. "Yes?" he asked innocently.
McGonagall glared, unable to find words to express her disgust. Eventually she gave up and simply dragged him down the hall. At least no one was around to witness this mortification.
If you listened closely, however, soft snickers and clapping drifted from behind a tapestry.
"George is our hero!"
"Anything for the cause!"
"He'll go down in Hogwarts history!"