The first thing Draco needed to do was get Potter's attention again. Being treated as if he were invisible had to end. He couldn't simply pick a fight, however, not if he wanted kisses instead of curses. Potter's attention would have to be caught as all men's attention was caught: by looking eminently shaggable.

Draco did have the advantage of looking eminently shaggable without even trying and, therefore, when he put a bit of effort into it, he could become drop-dead gorgeous. Potter's being gay helped, too; though, Draco knew he could also turn any straight boy's head. He'd seen others watching him from afar, giggling amongst themselves as he strutted past. Obviously, they'd been too awestruck to approach, but he could've had any of them if he wanted with a snap of his fingers.

Draco pawed through Potter's wardrobe, searching for something suitable for seduction. The blah, threadbare robes hanging from the rack needed to be burned, not worn. If only Draco had his own clothing from home, Potter would be panting at his feet the instant he waltzed into the room. But if he left the house, he couldn't come back, and so he was stuck working with what little material he had.

Granger had given him some clothes the same day she brought the bottles and instructions for the kits, but Potter had seen him wearing those already. They also weren't the best quality or most flattering for his figure. He couldn't find anything decent of Potter's to wear, either. Sorting through the garments folded on the shelves revealed tacky jumpers, oversized t-shirts, and pyjama bottoms.

Draco pulled one of the pyjama bottoms off the shelf and snapped the legs unfolded. He'd never seen a pair like this before. The fabric was soft and tough at the same time. He liked the colour, a very dark blue that would offset his pale skin nicely.

Draco stepped out of his own pyjama bottoms and pulled on Potter's. The material scratched at his groin, but not too badly, once he figured out the fastenings. The waistband was loose, as Potter was larger than him, making the pyjamas droop. He looked better in form-fitting garments, but he had to work with what was available.

After depositing his discarded pyjama bottoms in the laundry basket back in his bedroom, Draco checked his reflection in the mirror. His hair was still damp from his bath and it curled wetly around his ears and against his neck. "How do I look?"

"Honk!" came the response.

"Shh, not so loud. You'll wake your sisters," Draco scolded Thuban, who was clinging to the metal side of the cage. The girls nestled together under the tea towel in the back corner, noses and paws barely peeking out.

"Honk-heeenk-honk!"

Draco popped the latch and caught Thuban as he leapt out. He closed the cage door again and cradled Thuban in the crook of his arm. "I shouldn't reward you like this," Draco said, as he carried Thuban with him downstairs to the kitchen. "But I don't want to punish your sisters, either, by making them listen to your noisiness when they're trying to sleep."

"Honk-Honk!" Thuban licked Draco's forearm, and Draco forgot all about being stern.

In the kitchen, Draco put Thuban down on the table, after checking for Crookshanks, and set about making tea. If he timed this correctly, Potter would be coming into the kitchen shortly to prepare a tray for himself, Weasley, and Granger to bring back to the library.

He gave Thuban a biscuit to keep him occupied and nearly tripped on the hems of his borrowed pyjama bottoms on the way back to the kettle filling in the sink. Falling on his face wouldn't be attractive, by any means. He bent forward and started rolling the cuffs.

A sharp gasp preceded a mouth-filled "Hmmnk" from Thuban, and Draco shifted to look behind him. Potter stood on the threshold of the kitchen, holding the swinging door open with one hand, staring fixedly at Draco's arse. Yes!

Draco wiggled more than necessary as he finished rolling the cuffs. He heard another whoosh of breath, straightened casually, and sauntered over to the sink. He shut off the water, picked up the kettle, and pretended to be startled when he turned and saw Potter standing there. "Potter! Sneaking up on people isn't very Gryffindor of you."

Potter jerked his head, as if realizing he'd been staring, and shot Draco a look of contempt nearly overshadowed by confusion. "What are you wearing?"

"I needed clean pyjamas," Draco said, setting the kettle on the stove. He turned on the flame.

"Those aren't pyjamas, they're denims."

Draco shrugged and scratched his belly. He smirked inwardly when he saw Potter's focus drop to his hand. "Whatever they're called, they're comfortable—," Draco hooked his thumb in a belt loop and tugged the waistband downward, exposing a tuft of white-blonde curlies, "—even if they're a little loose."

Potter's face flushed and he swallowed visibly. Draco bit his tongue to keep from crowing, instead saying offhandedly, "I hope you don't mind my borrowing them."

Potter's head jerked again and he cleared his throat, looking away. "Next time, ask first," he said, attempting to sound firm. The crack in his voice ruined it. He pivoted on his heel and walked stiffly out of the kitchen.

Draco's face broke into a huge grin the moment the door swung closed.

The game was on.

tbc...