Damn Straight

Damn Straight

It's not too often you see two boys

Decked out in hosiery,

Standing beside the dining room table,

The stage lights blaring upon their wet hot skin.

It's not too often you see two boys

Eyes lined with a thick black,

Lips full and pink,

Face flushed and dabbed with gentle blush,

Their make-up running only slightly as they touch their lips again.

The students' uproar is heard for miles,

There are catcalls,

And moans of disgust,

But most of all, there is a consensus shock surrounding everyone.

And the questions that aim to decipher who the two are

Those are the loudest questions of all.

The Headmaster clears his throat,

Trying to avert eyes and call attention to him,

But the two boys are the scene of the year, if not the decade,

They've captured every stray glance,

And they haven't yet let go.

They kiss as if they're invisible to the world,

Kiss as if they're the only ones around,

But everyone sees them,

Friends, enemies, lovers,

All of them have that layer of fear over their glossy eyes,

They don't want to believe the things they're seeing.

The make-up is not all there is to behold.

No, the raven-haired Seeker has glasses askew,

Cloth hanging from his ripped black shirt,

Torn undoubtedly by the one on his lips.

His hosiery, to make matters worse (if they could get more so) are emerald green,

Slytherin pride so clearly waving with each passing touch.

The Slytherin Seeker has never looked more disheveled,

His hosiery is just black and green straps,

A long black shirt of silk held tightly to his skin,

And boots of enormous size, buckles and straps galore.

There's a small moan from one,

And this about does it for one spectator,

His flaming hair flying into his face, he stands,

Then as he speaks, everyone jumps at the voice.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?"

Ron's voice hangs in the air

Causing not his friend but his enemy to push the other away

The blonde looks at him, a smirk on colored lips.

"What's that Weasley?"

But before he can continue he's stopped

Finding himself wrapped up in the Gryffindor once more.

There's a muffled gulp and stringent cry

Heard from a girl this time,

Her red hair is held up with a red ribbon,

Her face distorted in disgust and pain.

"How could you?"

Ginny whispers aloud

And she breaks down,

Tears falling lightly from her eyes.

There's a loud squeak,

A huge thump

Neville Longbottom falls unconscious,

And no one runs to help.

There's yet another question of,

"Is that - Harry...Draco?"

And a silent recognition from the hall

They realize it is indeed.

"Blimey,"

Seamus calls out.

"Bloody hell,"

Dean says.

And no one says it,

But most of them think it,

'That's kind of hot.'

The two in question

Have their tongues down each other's throats,

Lips meeting in clashes,

And hands roaming freely

If not too obtrusively.

Finally, it's the reasonable voice

Who brings up the matter that everyone seems to be shying around.

"What the hell are Potter and Malfoy

Doing in make-up and panty hose?"

Blaise Zabini asks no one in particular,

But he does expect an answer.

"Someone's jinxed them!"

Pansy's outraged voice shatters the hall.

She's as furious as Ron,

And just as hurt as Ginny.

"Someone make them stop!"

Ron insists, turning a pale shade of green.

Ginny concurs, and so does Pansy.

Ginny can't stand to see anymore,

She turns on heel and leaves.

"Someone get a teacher!"

The staff table is just as bewildered

And stunned as the students,

No one will get up,

Because they're all waiting for someone else to act.

They've never seen this sort of conduct in the hall before.

"Someone take a picture!"

Shouts Colin's little brother.

Click, Flash.

Guess what's going to be front page news tomorrow.

Someone thinks it

But no one says it,

'I bet that picture sells for millions.'

'I bet that thousands will wake up to read that story

And hundreds more will be disappointed to find

The world's most charming available bachelor,

And the world's most favorable tragic hero,

Have the hots for one another.'

No one in the hall had expected that.

There's a hidden laugh

Concealed by a kiss

As Harry Potter steps back from Draco Malfoy,

But his green eyes still pierce into the gray ones.

The Blonde watches him as well.

Now they are aware of everything.

Their cheeks redden through the blush,

But still they don't look away.

There's chided laughter

There's uncomfortable glances,

There's unintelligible whispers,

And there's a whoop of cheer.

The Gryffindor gives him a look,

A look of 'I can't believe we just did that.'

And it's returned.

They nod, and know their damage is done.

"I still don't know,

Why you accepted to do that,"

Draco says, as the two exit the hall

Hand in hand.

"Told you."

Harry winks.

"If I was to going to do this,

We had to do it in a dramatic statement."

The Slytherin smirks pushing Harry to a wall.

"And what better statement

Than hosiery and public affection."

As Harry loosens the Slytherin's tie

He grumbles simply,

"Damn straight."