Harry Potter stared up at Draco Malfoy, who sneered at him. "What's the matter, Potter, never seen an actual foot?"
Harry looked at Draco and smiled dumbly. "Of course I have! I'm looking at one right now!" He looked at Draco's foot eagerly, as if he was expecting it to talk to him.
Draco rolled his eyes and looked down at Harry, who was sitting on the floor of the broom closet. "What are you waiting for?"
Harry looked up at Draco again, who was sitting on a wooden chest. He looked down at the pale, delicate foot and poked it. He giggled madly, and poked it again. He giggled, and poked. Giggled and poked. "This is fun!" said Harry happily.
Draco sighed. "Come on, Potter! Rub my feet!" He wiggled his toes as Harry brushed his fingertip against them. "Potter! Stop it! That tickles!" Finally, Draco kicked Harry in the stomach.
Harry rubbed his stomach. "Oh, what'd you go and do that for?" Harry asked, looked at Draco sadly.
"If you don't get a move on, Potter, I'll do it again!" Draco threatened, anger flashing in his gray eyes.
Harry whined like a puppy dog and lifted Draco's left foot. He stared at it for a second, and then began to rub it.
"That's better, Potter, much better...ah," sighed Draco happily, leaning back on the wall. He smiled and closed his eyes.
Then he felt something sharp biting at his big toe. His eyelids fluttered open and he snapped upright, staring down at Potter, puzzled.
"Did you just bite me?" Draco questioned, confused.
Harry glanced up and nodded.
"Why in the heck did you just bite me?" Draco asked, staring down Harry.
Harry looked at Draco for a moment, dumfounded. Then he whispered, "Cheese."
Draco wrinkled his face up and pulled his foot away from Draco. "God, Potter, you're disgusting!" He started to put his sock on, but Harry had his mouth open. "What?"
"Cheese is good. Especially when you eat it in your bed at midnight. Or if you sit in a refrigerator," Harry told him. He pulled off his shoe, yanked off a crusty black sock, and exposed his left foot, which was big, hairy, and yellow. His toenails were really long, encrusted with white stuff, and the nails themselves were purple.
Draco stood up immediately, whipping his eyes away from that nasty sight. He strode gracefully over to a corner, away from the foot, which was now stinking up the room. Its odor lingered over to Draco, who stuffed his sock against his nose.
He heard slurping noises, and looked over at Harry, who was now sucking on his big toe. "Oh, Potter!" he squealed, turning to face to wall.
"Mmmm...yummy...m—m—m good!" cried Harry, now chewing on something.
"What are you eating?" Draco asked, not really wanting to know.
"Bunion," said Harry, licking his lips. "Good."
"Are you done yet?" asked Draco to the wall.
"Yeah, I got all the good stuff out!" said Harry, half happy and half disappointed. He ate all the good stuff. Now there's none left. He frowned as he pulled on his sock, which he inhaled before putting back on, and jammed his foot back into his shoe.
Draco took a can of Lysol out of a pocket in his robes. He sprayed the whole closet, before turning to Harry. He held the can out in front of him, and dowsed Harry in the disinfectant.
"If I didn't like you, Potter, I wouldn't be doing this," Draco stated, giving Harry a look. "Don't know why I like you, actually. You're completely dumb, and utterly disgusting when it comes to feet."
Harry beamed at Draco. "I love you, Draco!" He stood up suddenly, so suddenly he fell to the floor. Draco offered him his hand, and pulled Harry to his feet. Harry gave Draco a huge hug. Draco frowned. Harry still smelled like feet.
After Harry and Draco said their good-byes, Harry went skipping along to the Gryffindor Tower. Some people stared as Harry went by, with his arms folded and hands at the armpits, skipping along merrily as if he was a little girl going to her beloved grandmother's. But people who knew him glanced at him, nothing more. Harry simply, was just a little girl at heart. That's most of the reasons he got along a little better with Hermione than he did with Ron, although Ron had his own girlish tendencies.
Harry skidded to a stop at the Fat Lady, who asked for the password. "Hinkle Sminkle!" he said giddily, his head falling back, laughing.
"Nope," the Fat Lady said irritably. She then looked closer at him. "Aren't you that Harry Potter boy?" she asked, her eyebrow raised.
"Yeah! Oh, I was just kidding about that password. Fighting Temptations!" he squealed, a loose wrist hanging at his side.
"Correct..." she whispered, staring at him strangely. Her portrait swung forward, revealing a narrow walkway into which the common room expanded. Harry immediately saw Ron and Hermione in the best chairs by the fireplace.
He took a seat next to them, and watched curiously as Ron brushed his hair. "I love your hair," Harry drooled, his chin resting on his hand. Real drool dribbled out of his wide, open mouth.
"Yes, doesn't everybody?" Ron agreed arrogantly, running a purple brush through his shiny, red hair.
"Only Malfoy doesn't. He says his hair is better," Harry tells Ron, who immediately freezes, his brush still in his hair.
"Whose hair is better? His or mine?" he questions Harry, turning to him and looking at him in the eyes. He looks fearful, as if Harry is going to say Malfoy's is better.
Harry is still ogling Ron's hair. "Yours," he whispers, drooling. There is a drool puddle starting to form on the common room floor.
"I do wish you'd stop doing that!" Hermione said edgily. "
What?" Ron asked. He turned to look at Hermione and was once again brushing his hair, one long graceful stroke after another. Harry watched, his eyes following the brush as it slid its way smoothly down Ron's bright hair.
"That!" she cried, pointing at both Harry and Ron.
Harry snapped out of it and turned to Hermione. "The roof is on fire?" he cried, his hands flinging to the sides of his face. A big glob of drool slid out of his mouth and hit the floor with a ping! "The roof is on fire!" He jumped up and started running in circles, every now and then stopping to shake a person and scream at them: "The roof is on fire!" They in turn rolled their eyes and went back to their reading.
"Harry! Harry!" Hermione yelled, chasing after Harry, pinning him on the wall with her arm. "The roof is not on fire. I said, 'That', and you went bonkers. Now sit down!" She led him back to his chair and pushed him down onto it hardly.
"Now," she said calmly, as if nothing had happened, "I would like you," she pointed to Ron, "to please keep your brushing in private. Look what you've done to Harry." She pointed at the puddle.
"Did he...wet himself?" Ron questioned disbelievingly.
Hermione shook her head, and then nodded. "Well that is his drool, and that is where he wet himself." She pointed to Harry's pants, which had a huge wet stain going down the front, which was oddly shaped like Italy.
Ron gaped at Harry. Harry stared at Ron. Harry reached out a hand to Ron's hair, saying, "Can I touch it?"
Ron's hand batted Harry's away. "No, no, no! Never! But look what you've done to yourself, Harry!" Ron cried, pointing at Harry's pee.
"It's not a problem, see...watch this!" Harry lifted his leg up and started to lick the stain that oddly resembled Italy.
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione said disgustedly, turning away. "Stop that!"
But Harry continued.
"Ron, please make him stop!"
"No!" Ron said, bemused at Harry. "Since when did he get this crazy?"
"Since Voldemort's come back," she told Ron casually. "Now make him stop!"
"Harry!" Ron shouted, pushing forcefully down on Harry's leg. "Stop it!"
Harry stopped and looked at Ron. "Fine. But I get to touch your hair!" Ron's eyes widened and he started to shake his head. His mouth formed to say 'No,' but Hermione kicked him. "Alright. One pet."
Harry eagerly lifted his hand up and brought it down on Ron's silky bright red hair. He lifted it again for another pet, but Ron said through gritted teeth, "No. I said one pet."
Harry frowned, but then his face lit up as he asked Ron, "What kind of conditioner do you use?"
Ron beamed; his hair was his favorite topic for conversation. "Well, I prefer Madam Geringham's Conditioner for Red-Headed Boys Who Want Beautiful Hair but mum thinks I don't need it since I already have beautiful hair," he said, with an exaggerated toss of his hair. "So now I use Lady Luzembourg's Conditioner for Red-Headed Boys Who Already Have Beautiful Hair and Want Even Silkier Hair." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Ah...silky and beautiful red hair, courtesy of Lady Luzembourg. Thank you, Lady Luzembourg!" A couple of nearby fourth-year girls giggled. Ron smiled.
"Can I borrow some?" Harry asked, eyeing Ron's beautiful hair.
Ron frowned. "Of course not. It's for red-headed boys who already have beautiful hair and want even silkier hair," Ron stated. He eyed Harry's tangled, disheveled, pitch-black hair. "For you, I would try Madam Geringham's Conditioner for Black-Haired Boys Who Want Beautiful Hair. Look for it in Hogsmeade next time we go."
Harry nodded and giggled staring at a pair of fifth-years nearby. "That's what Draco will do when I have hair like yours."
"What will he do?" Hermione asked curiously, following his stare. It landed at a pair of boys, one whom was looking at the other boy's butt, and bopping his head. She snorted. "Right you are, Harry."
"What?" Ron questioned in Harry's defense. "Harry has a nice butt, as I quoted just the other day."
"You – said I had a nice butt?" Harry asked in awe.
"Duh," Ron said simply, as if it were common sense.
"You know, come to think of it, some girls the other day were saying that Draco's lucky, having a guy like you. They said that you had a 'tight' butt, and they'd like to get their hands on it," Hermione informed them, frowning.
"You know, I do have a nice butt," said a grinning Harry. "And it comes in handy. You know why?"
"Why?" Ron and Hermione asked in unison.
"When I want walnuts cracked, I'll just stick one in between my butt cheeks, squeeze, and the shell breaks. Draco was absolutely amazed when I showed him," Harry reflected, blushing a bit.
Ron groaned. Hermione said, "Ew." But nearby, Colin Creevey cried, "Cool!"
Harry smiled. "Want to see?"
"Yeah!" shouted Colin. Harry got up from his chair, smoothing his school vest out. "I have some business to attend to. And I think I should change," he said, gesturing to his school uniform. "The Gryffindor colors should've been lilac and pale yellow, I tell you." He left to climb the dormitory stairs, Colin in tote, ogling Harry's firm buttocks.
Hermione shook his head. "And just to think, he was in awe over your hair. Now, he's showing his butt off as if he were some sort of trophy."
"Well, it is. You know, Hermione, this just further proves my suspicions of you being a lesbian," Ron declared, staring at her strangely.
"Yeah right! I like guys, not girls," Hermione cried out in defense. Then, without Ron noticing, she turned her head in Ginny's direction and winked.