Gold

Disclamer:This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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AN: This is the sequel to Silver so before you read this i would like you to read http/ or there will be some things you might not understand

\"I can\'t believe I actually lost to Weasley!\" Draco grumbled to himself as he leaned forwards onto the sink and watched himself speak in the mirror. \"And now, having to wear that!\"

Draco had played a competitive game of chess against Ronald Weasley only a week ago, and won. When Weasley had demanded a rematch Draco couldn\'t say no, couldn\'t back down from the challenge, and then they\'d decided that they may as well use the exact same bet as before. Draco was regretting that now; when he\'d lost, Weasley had handed him a stack of folded clothes, taken from a rucksack the boy had brought with him. When he\'d taken the pile he could see the Gryffindor colours poking out of the bulk of white, grey and black, and had thought that one of the Gryffindor boys had donated their uniform to get to see Draco Malfoy, Slytherin to the core, in Gryffindor colours.

He\'d been wrong.

When he\'d gotten to the boys’ toilets to change, and left the crowd that had gathered outside with an \"I do not require an audience while I dress,\" he had discovered that the folded piece of grey cloth was not a pair of trousers, but instead, a skirt. He would be wearing a Gryffindor gir’ls uniform.

Draco groaned, he\'d never be able to live this down. But, it was the result of a stupid bet and he had to do it. Just a step at a time, he told himself, and began to strip off his own uniform. He was down to his boxers before he paused again. Oh no, they wouldn\'t, he thought staring warily at the pile of girls robes sat on the floor next to his own neatly folded uniform. Crouching down he rifled through the pile, and yes, they had. Right in the middle of the skirt and shirt, there they were, knickers.

He couldn\'t believe that they hated so much that they\'d make him wear girls\' knickers. What was wrong with his own underwear? They\'d be hidden beneath the knee length skirt anyway. But the bet was very specific, and the threat of huge, painful boils hung over his head if he didn\'t do as told. So silky, lacy, red knickers it had to be.

\"I just had to make that knicker comment last week, didn\'t I? I hate Weasleys,\" Draco said to himself. He sighed and turned his head when he heard a banging on the door.

\"Get a move on Malfoy, we don\'t have all day!\" Draco heard, though Weasley\'s voice was muffled by the door.

\"Go jump off the astronomy tower, Weasley!\" Draco countered, then he heard a round of laughter from his classmates.

Draco stripped off his boxers and reached for the knickers, he pulled them on as quickly as possible and reached for the next item of clothing which turned out to be a shirt. He refused to think about where the knickers came from, though a small part of his mind was hoping that they were conjured rather than donated. He buttoned the shirt quickly, not wanting to be mostly naked when the others lost their patience and barged in on him.

Next was the skirt, he stepped into it and slid it up his legs, the grey material was snug around his waist, and not uncomfortable at all. That thought was quickly shoved aside as he did up the zipper and grabbed the red and gold tie up from the floor.

He was just about to pull on the outer robe when Weasley barged in.

\"God Malfoy, you take longer than my sister putting on the same robes!\" Ron said, barely holding back his laughter to speak as he took in the sight of Draco in a skirt.

Draco scowled, \"Laugh all you want, Weasley, but I\'ll get you back for this! And please tell me these aren\'t actually your sister’s!\"

\"Unfortunately, they are. After you\'re done with them we\'ll have to burn them,\" Ron said letting out a snort of laughter.

Draco shook his head and put on the outer robe.

\"All right, let\'s get this over with, Weasley.\"

He picked up his own uniform and tucked it under one arm before following Ron out into the hallway where every student burst out laughing. Draco could hear that there were some rather mean comments being muttered about him by some of the students, and though he’d told himself that he shouldn’t blush because it would make him look weak, his cheeks suffused with a delicate pink.

He looked around the gathered crowd trying to see if Harry was there, when the boy in question pushed his way to the front and held his hand out. Confused for a moment at why Harry would be offering Draco his hand in public he frowned.

“Your clothes, Malfoy,” Harry said, waving his hand towards the bundle of Slytherin uniform. “Give me your clothes. Can’t have you trying to hide behind them, can we?”

Draco scowled and shoved the clothes at Harry. Not only was he embarrassed at wearing girls clothes, especially in front of other people, but he’d thought for a moment that perhaps Harry wanted to hold his hand and that made him feel like an idiot.

“Follow me, ladies and gents,” Ron said. “Oh, and you too Malfoy, can’t leave you behind.”

Draco glared at Weasley, but followed as he led them away from the toilets towards the more densely populated areas of the school, the Library and then the Great Hall.

It was utterly humiliating, Draco decided. He was glaring back at anyone who gaped at him, and though he tried to ignore what was being said by the people around him, when they addressed him directly he felt that he had to defend himself. He was a Malfoy, a pureblood and he shouldn’t have to take any crap from anyone, whether or not he was dressed as a boy or a girl.

He’d noticed that Harry was watching him like a hawk, following his movements even more closely than the others; even Weasley wasn’t paying him so much attention. He wasn’t sure why, but he wanted to know, perhaps seeing him like this would make Harry reconsider their … Draco wasn’t sure what he and Harry had. It wasn’t exactly like they had much of a relationship, and they weren’t dating by any normal meaning of the word. Still, the only way he’d find out exactly what was going on behind those green eyes that watched him so intently would be to get Harry to meet with him later and outright ask him. He was a Gryffindor, he’d spill the inner workings of his mind if asked in the right way.

In fact, Harry was supposed to be meeting him in his room at eight anyway, so there was no need for his mind to be busily working out a way to signal Harry without anyone else seeing.

He dragged his hand back through his hair as a group of Slytherins walked into the Great Hall and set eyes on him. Pansy shrieked.

“Oh my God, Draco! What the hell are you wearing?”

Draco found himself scowling at her intently. Stupid bint, what did it look like he was wearing?

“Weasley apparently wanted to have one of his dirty fantasy’s fulfilled, so when I made a minor tactical error and lost the rematch, he demanded I wear his sister’s uniform. Find me right sexy like this, don’t you, Weasley?” Draco drawled, enjoying that by the time he had finished Ron was blushing a bright red, which made his own pink blush seem not quite as bad as it had moments ago.

“Fuck off, Malfoy! like I’d ever think that of you,” Ron snapped.

“Know what, Weasley, I think I will do just that,” Draco said then stormed away. He’d done his bit, he’d stayed with Ron until he’d said he could go. Weasley really needed to learn how to word what he wanted better.

Draco left the hall to the sound of Weasley yelling, “Fine Malfoy, but don’t forget you should have them on for the rest of today!”

…

Draco sat on a sofa he’d transfigured from a spare quill earlier that day, doing an essay on the importance of considering relative mass when transfiguring objects of considerable mass from ones with a low mass.

He’d been working on the essay for about an hour, since he’d managed to calm down and think enough to realise that he’d be better off distracting himself from his clothing. Checking the clock on the wall opposite his bed, Draco saw that there was only ten minutes left until Harry would show up.

He wondered what would happen when Harry arrived. Over the last week they’d spent quite a few hours here in this room, kissing and touching each other but also talking, they steered clear of certain uncomfortable topics, but Draco felt that he knew a little more about Harry now. But he didn’t know enough to be certain that Harry wouldn’t refuse to be with him while he was wearing Ginny’s uniform (he squashed down the voice that added, ‘and perhaps her knickers’) perhaps Harry could ignore that because it was his friend who had made him wear them, and not Draco himself. Maybe Harry wouldn’t mind enough to kiss him.

Draco sighed and wiggled around on the sofa, trying to get comfortable. He’d taken off the outer Gryffindor robe, (he only had to keep on as much Gryffindor uniform as he would have been wearing of his Slytherin one) and so his bare legs were brushing over the patterned fabric of the sofa. The sensation was very odd, and Draco couldn’t decide whether it was a good odd or not, though the part of him that thought maybe it felt nice was squashed ruthlessly by the rest of his mind; it was mortifying enough that he be wearing the skirt, god forbid that he should enjoy something that came from that!

Harry arrived a few minutes late. A few minutes that Draco spent worrying that maybe he wouldn’t show up at all, not that Harry could tell that from the calm demeanour he presented to him when he opened the door and pulled him inside quickly.

Trying his hardest to forget the skirt, Draco smiled at Harry, and was relieved when the other boy smiled back and allowed Draco to pull him to the sofa.

“Sorry you got dragged around the school like that,” Harry said, settling down next to Draco.

Draco flushed, “Yeah, I’m going to have to get the Weasel back for this.”

Harry grinned, “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t mind me having a bit of revenge on your best mate?” Draco asked.

Harry’s head tilted to the side as he thought about that. Draco was about to say something else when Harry spoke. “As long as it’s in proportion to what he’s done, no,” he said, voice thoughtful. Harry then grinned again, “Come here.”

Draco hesitated for a moment then scooted closer to Harry on the sofa, curling close to him. Harry made a soft hmm noise and shifted the arm that was nearest to Draco around him.

“What?” Draco asked. His cheeks were blushing lightly as he pulled Harry’s face around to look him in the eye.

Harry said nothing, just smiled at him then pressed a brief kiss to his lips.

Draco\'s grey eyes widened as Harry\'s other hand slid up his thigh, fingers flitting beneath the rough material of the school skirt. He reached out and clamped his hand around Harry\'s wrist.

\"Wh- what are you doing?\" he asked, his cheeks flushing a deeper pink than they\'d been moments before.

\"What does it look like I\'m trying to do?\" Harry said, his voice was rougher than normal, and as he watched Draco\'s face blush his own became more suffused with red. \"You happen to look very, very delicious like that. Did you know?\"

\"What? No!\" Draco tried to pull Harry\'s hand off of his thigh, and though he succeeded in removing Harry\'s palm, his fingers were still there, tracing patterns that could have been anything from letters and numbers to runes or sigils, repeatedly over his skin.

As he shifted into a more comfortable position leaning into Draco, Harry\'s free hand moved to cup Draco\'s jaw, his thumb stroking gently over his lips and chin, then moving to open Draco\'s mouth as he moved forwards to kiss him.

The kiss was warm, and languid, unhurried. Harry watched Draco until pale eyelids fluttered shut over grey irises, then he allowed his own eyes to close and concentrated on moving his lips and tongue and teeth over Draco\'s.

After a little while Draco released Harry\'s wrist to move his hand to Harry\'s back, stroking the muscled back through the cotton material of the shirt. When Harry\'s hand resumed it\'s movement on his thigh he thought \'sneaky bastard\' but did nothing to stop Harry again; that might mean the end of the kisses, and really did the little matter of a skirt, or girls\' knickers, mean that he shouldn\'t take whatever Harry offered?

It wasn\'t until Harry\'s hand found it\'s way up to where the silk and lace of the knickers crossed over his hip that the kiss broke.

Hesitantly Draco opened his eyes to find Harry looking down towards his crotch with a puzzled but intrigued look on his face.

The embarrassment that crashed over him nearly put his blush to being an actual red, turning away from Harry he pushed him away.

He heard Harry lick his lips and take a deep breath. Pre-emptively he began to wrack his brains for any harsh thing he could say to get Harry to stop whatever remark he was going to make.

Floundering slightly when Harry still hadn\'t said anything, he said, \"They made me.\"

\"Then they are? Actual knickers I mean?\" Harry asked, breathily.

Draco replied with a whispered, \"Yes.\"

He really hadn\'t figured on this level of mortification, not once it was just him and Harry, safe here in his room, but he didn\'t seem to be able to get past the fact that he was here, with Harry, but he was wearing girls clothes, and was certain that at any moment and despite the fact that his wearing them wasn\'t completely by choice, Harry would make some cruel insinuation or outright start laughing and mocking him.

\"Let me see?\"

Draco did turn then, eyebrow raised with incredulity.

It soon fell. Harry was flushed, and his eyes were wide, pupils almost swallowing the green of them completely, he licked his lips nervously again as he saw Draco\'s expression, but Draco was too busy noticing that this whole deal had Harry undeniably turned on.

\"You like this, don\'t you?\" he asked, his voice harsher than he\'d meant it to be.

This time it was Harry who flushed further and looked away. But as Draco was trying to figure out how to fix it all, Harry turned back, eyes intent on Draco\'s own.

\"Yes,\" he hissed. \"I happen to find you incredibly attractive normally, and seeing you like this does nothing to diminish that. I think, perhaps, that seeing you like this only makes me more aware of how fucking beautiful you really are. Is that going to be a problem?\" Harry snapped.

Stunned, Draco sat back. He\'d known that Harry had paid him quite a bit more attention than he normally would have since he\'d been dragged out of the bathroom by Weasley, and that had been why Draco had suggested they keep their meeting, but this, this was not at all what he had anticipated. The most he had expected was perhaps a small kiss or two, and a curious, but disgusted Harry.

He\'d been silent trying to work things out for too long, Harry had snatched up his robe and was up and taking a step away before Draco\'s reflexes kicked in and his arm reached out and latched onto Harry\'s right arm. \"Don\'t go,\" he said, voice soft but sure.

Harry stilled beneath his hand. \"Why shouldn\'t I? You don\'t want me here, not right now at least,\" he said, irritation and hurt showing through.

\"I want you to stay, Harry,\" Draco said, not entirely sure why he hadn\'t let Harry just go in the first place. Because he really likes me, he answered himself, because I don\'t just think it\'s that he finds me incredibly attractive or fucking beautiful, that\'s why. He tugged lightly on the arm in his hand, drawing Harry back towards him.

Harry looked at him doubtfully, but settled down on the sofa when Draco tugged again.

“I’m sorry… I just…” Draco sighed. “It’s just that this is fairly odd. And embarrassing for me.”

“I’m sorry too,” Harry said. “I should have realised and not done anything, all right?”

Draco nodded, but added, “It isn’t that I don’t want you to do anything – I like it when you, you know? I just didn’t expect that you’d want to do anything with me like this. I sort of spent the last couple of hours assuming that you’d hate me for it even though it’s Weasley’s fault.”

“Actually Draco, it is your fault. You did lose after all,” Harry pointed out with a sly smile.

“Arsehole,” Draco groused, but said it with a slight smile. “You really don’t mind?”

“I think I’ve already told you what I think,” Harry said and pulled Draco until he was positioned in his lap, facing Harry, thighs on either side of Harry’s.

Draco balanced himself by placing his hands on Harry’s chest, and leaned forwards to press a kiss to Harry’s lips as Harry settled his own hands on his thighs, fingers once more travelling under the material of the skirt which was already a great deal of the way up his thighs due to his position straddling Harry.

When Harry’s fingers found their way up to the silk and lace knickers again, Draco had to swallow down his embarrassment, which wasn’t made too hard when those clever fingers brushed over him.

“Harry,” Draco breathed, shivering at the sensation of Harry’s fingertips against him, feeling himself harden inside the silk.

Draco’s eyes opened and he licked his lips as he watched Harry’s smirk. They hadn’t actually done anything like this before. The past week they’d done stuff together, but it was like there had been an unspoken rule preventing any below the belt action, one that Harry seemed to have thrown out of the window. Not that Draco was complaining. Draco was using his mouth for things far more useful than complaining; pressing a row of kisses down Harry’s neck, tugging the red and gold tie loose and opening up the buttons of his shirt to expose more skin to his ministrations.

Harry’s fingers were still working over him as he licked along Harry’s collarbone, and then lightly nipped at it.

When Harry’s fingers slipped under the silk and lace and pulled down, Draco quite willingly raised up slightly to make it easier to pull the knickers out of the way.

“Red, huh?” Harry asked with a husky voice as they appeared from beneath the skirt.

Draco was about to make a witty reply about Weasley and his attachment to red, when Harry took him in his palm, and his reply became a sharp gasp and a shudder when Harry squeezed and stroked.

Draco pressed his face close to Harry, trying to steady his breath as he was worked. He kissed Harry where he could reach, tongue flickering out over Harry’s chest as he worked down to take one of Harry’s nipples in his mouth, his right hand tweaking and massaging the other, as he pushed into Harry’s hand.

Harry’s free hand was stroking over his back through the material of the blouse, and he was muttering things that Draco’s brain couldn’t quite catch onto.

Draco moved back to kiss Harry’s neck, then his mouth as he pushed his fingers through Harry’s thick, black hair.

Draco knew, that if he heard himself make the soft keening noises, or moans he was making when he wasn’t hopped up on desire he’d probably drop down in shame, but right now he neither cared nor could stop as he drew closer and closer to that edge, that drop down into orgasm.

His breathing was becoming more and more rapid, and Harry’s hand on him sped up, working faster to bring him.

It didn’t take too much longer and he was coming, semen spilling over Harry’s hand. Harry held him close as he shuddered and pressed a kiss onto his hair.

As Draco came back to his senses he realised how one-sided this encounter had been. He thought that if it were possible for him to blush anymore he would, not that Harry would be able to see that, his head was tucked in against Harry’s neck. He reached down towards Harry’s lap, determined to even things out between them.

“No,” Harry said, catching Draco’s wrist.

Startled and confused Draco sat back. A voice inside his mind kept telling him that Harry thought he’d made a mistake, that he didn’t really want him or think the things he’d said before, and definitely didn’t want Draco touching him now.

His mind was still rather fuzzy and while he was trying to coordinate how to get his body to move off of Harry, he must have made his confusion and hurt clear in his expression, so when he finally did slide back to try to get his legs in the right place to stand, Harry caught a hold of him and held him where he was.

“No, that’s not it, Draco,” Harry said earnestly. Draco looked up; Harry’s eyes appeared even more green than usual when set against his red blush.

He managed not to say anything and to stay still while he waited for Harry to stay more.

“It’s just that it isn’t necessary – I already,” Harry stopped, breaking eye contact and making a vague motion with his hand.

It took a second for it to click and when it did Draco relaxed, “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Harry agreed. “All right?”

Draco smiled and nodded, “Yes, it is.”

“Good,” Harry said and using one hand on Draco’s back still to ensure he wasn’t going to back off, cupped Draco’s jaw in one hand and drew him into a kiss.

Draco sighed contentedly and pulled back. “Just a sec,” he said then managed to slide back and stand up.

He slid the red silk down his legs and kicked them off then toed off his socks. He grabbed his wand from his desk and fired off a few quick cleaning spells before going back to Harry. He notices that the red silk is no longer on the floor, but doesn’t say anything, if Harry wants the knickers, he can have them.

He refuses to think of what they’re doing as snuggling. So what if he’s curling into Harry, head resting on his shoulder, pressed tight up against his side, outer arm crossing over to rest on Harry? So what if Harry’s arms are around him too? It’s not snuggling, it’s … Draco can’t think of a word.

“This wasn’t here the other day,” Harry says finally.

“Transfigured it,” Draco replies simply.

“Oh.”

Harry’s shirt is still unbuttoned and Draco’s hand rests lightly just above his stomach. A comfortable silence descends again, and it isn’t long before they start kissing again, slow, unhurried.

“Hmmm. I’d better go,” Harry says pulling back. “Ron and the others will start missing me.”

Draco frowned and kissed Harry again. “All right. I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked a little breathless from their kiss.

“Of course. Same time?” Draco responded with a nod.

He walked Harry to the door, and pressed one last kiss to his lips before opening the door and letting Harry slip away into the dungeons.

Draco smiled. Tomorrow.