~2~
Vincent swallowed down yet another Polyjuice Potion. He slowly shrunk to the petite frame of a fifth year Slytherin girl they'd managed to get a hair from. His clothes hung off of him, almost comically so. His hair was brown, glossier and longer than it normally was. He admired his cheekbones with his fingers before stripping out of his clothes and putting on her's.
It felt weird to have breasts and lack a dick. He was uncomfortable in this body, the thin frame and soft skin, causing him to stumble around as he adjusted to it. He'd do it again though. Anything to help Draco.
Draco was murmuring under his breath as he walked into the dorm room and shut the door behind him. Gregory was sick, probably from stuffing himself with food and only later figuring out that he was, in fact, gluten intolerant. Vincent hadn't been able to eat much the past week or so; Draco was practically pulling out his hair and sobbing with the stress of his task, so how could he even stomach anything when his best friend was so upset?
Draco walked over to him, picking up clothes and empty potion bottles as he went and dumping them on his own bed. He spent a moment analyzing the girl who stood in front of him. Vincent wondered what he saw. Was there any trace of himself in these features? Vincent wasn't used to being shorter than Draco. It was odd to see the sixteen year old from this angle. It made him hurt in places he didn't realize could hurt.
"You make a beautiful girl, Vinnie," Draco said teasingly and coming to a stop directly in front of him. Vincent rolled his eyes. They did this every time since they started.
"You're just happy because now you're taller," he said, lips curving slightly into a smile. Draco grinned and wrapped an arm around the other boy's waist.
"You know me too well," the blond muttered, bending down and brushing his lips against the side of Vincent's neck. He sighed and tilted his head to the side, hair cascading down his shoulder. He knew the drill. Draco nipped at his -or perhaps, her - sensitive skin, leaving a vivid bruise there. Vincent was sure that Draco had felt his pulse jump. If he did, he ignored it in favor of draping his arm over Vincent's shoulder. They walked out of the dorm, into the common room, and hardly anyone spared them a glance. They were used to this by now.
Draco, playboy. Draco, sex god. Draco, subject of every sexual fantasy.
Vincent wondered, sometimes, what they would think if he walked out without Polyjuice. Would they still chalk it up to Draco's irresistible jawline?
It didn't matter anyway. It would never happen.