Harry Potter hated labels. Not just the kind sewn into clothing, which he also hated. He ripped them out of the clothes in his wardrobe voraciously whenever he spotted one. This usually resulted in him wearing his shirts backwards, inside out, or both. Not that he cared in the slightest, as long as there was never a label irritating his skin and demanding his attention at random moments throughout the day.
But more than anything, Harry hated the labels people placed on themselves and on others. Although they were invisible, he found them just as vexing as the kind on his apparel. Slytherin or Gryffindor, good or bad, introvert or extrovert, smart or dull, beautiful or ugly, straight or bent, rough or smooth. These unseen social cues put everyone into boxes, made them crush their differences from one another to fit into their assigned boxes. Harry didn't see the world this way, not in black and white as others seemed to. He realized that everyone had dichotomies within themselves and it was much more beneficial to embrace all of oneself instead of picking and choosing traits that others had deemed favorable. He saw himself as many things and not simply siting on one side of a spectrum.
This was why he had begun to embrace his more Slytherin qualities as of late. Harry had realized it was stupid to suppress these traits anymore simply because he was a Gryffindor, as twisted an explanation as that seemed. Another reason for the switch in his viewpoints was his sexuality. Harry did not appreciate being forced to pick a sexuality when his tastes were diverse and not gender, but person specific. He was usually attracted to a specific feature in his partners, not their gender. Cho Chang, for instance, had such unusual but beautiful hair. It was long, blue-black, and straight like dark rainfall. He had spent an inordinate amount of time watching her after their first Quidditch match in third year; her hair had whipped about her face like a miniature tornado as she tracked his progress across the field, and he had become transfixed. In the weeks and months following their first meeting he had watched spellbound as she pulled her hair into a ponytail before eating in the great hall, again when a lock of hair fell across her cheek in the library as she was bent over her work, and on many other occasions besides.
Obsession was in his nature apparently, but it hadn't worked out in the long run with Cho to his dismay and eventual acceptance. For a while he had toyed with the idea of Ginny Weasley, as he was enamored with her long, graceful limbs. He had come to the conclusion that it was not a good idea. He cared for his friendship with Ron too much to jeopardize it and she seemed very happy with Dean Thomas in any case. No, recently his new fixation had become Blaise Zabini. His skin was so striking, smooth and dark. Harry spent a lot of time imagining what it would feel like under his fingers, and what it would taste like if he pressed kisses into it.
He had been watching Malfoy in Charms class one afternoon, whom he had noticed staring at Hermione more than usual as of late, and his eyes had drifted over to Zabini. Harry's eyes had run over his nose and mouth, down his neck, and to his exposed forearms, where he had rolled the sleeves of his shirt up. Blaise's skin was like black silk and he knew he was done for then as his cock twitched at the thought of all that gorgeous skin exposed at once. He had jerked his gaze down before he got carried away, but ever since then he hadn't been able to stop himself sneaking glances at the Slytherin every now and again. He had perfected the blank stare, so that if he was ever caught in the act, people usually thought he had been staring off into space and not directly at anything or anyone in particular. The other day in History of Magic, however, Blaise had caught his gaze momentarily and tilted his head to one side as if considering something. Harry had looked away immediately for obvious reasons. It really wouldn't do him any good getting involved with the Slytherin, and would probably bring him nothing but trouble. He should just forget it before things got out of hand, and he acted without thinking. With that he dragged himself away from thoughts of Blaise and ate the cold spoonful of stew that he had forgotten during his musings. He nudged Hermione who was seated next to him reading her Advanced Arithmancy textbook and said "Malfoy's watching you."
And he was correct. Hermione glanced up from her book across the great hall and met Malfoy's gaze for a brief second before the blonde turned away to talk to Theodore Nott. "I wonder what he wants," questioned Hermione thoughtfully.
"Dunno, but he's been watching you like that all this week and part of last so far as I've noticed."
"Has he really?" she replied looking slightly alarmed.
Harry nodded and continued eating his stew. Ron wasn't there to give comment on the matter because Slughorn had given him detention for splashing Goyle "accidentally" with befuddlement draught. Not that it made much of a difference; Goyle behaved exactly the same before and after the incident. Hermione went back to reading her book with a concerned line now apparent on her forehead and Harry's gaze wandered back to the Slytherin table to focus on Blaise, whom he watched absentmindedly for the remainder of the meal.