Dragline

"Just a little bit more, I promise. Come on, it'll look worse if it's only half-done," Draco coaxed. He waved the thin black pencil hopefully in the air.

"Well will you look at that, for once I completely agree with you," answered Harry dryly. "It would look better not done at all."

Draco feathered a finger down his cheek and looked through lowered lashes with exaggerated hurt. "But you promised," he whined, when Harry didn't respond. He made a mental note to himself to update what he privately called his Emotionally Manipulative Expressions again. It was always such a bother when Harry became inured to each set. "It makes you look very sexy, you know."

"Sexy like a woman."

"Eyeliner is a very masculine cosmetic. I've been wearing it for years."

"Point in case." Harry crossed his arms and surreptitiously backed away from the innocuous item threatening him. The movement did not escape Draco, who rolled his eyes.

"I'm very manly, thank you. Mostly because I don't dither about worrying about degrees of manliness. If you ask me, that's a very womanly thing to do." Just for fun, he pretended to jab the pencil at Harry, and was pleased to see him involuntarily jump back. Harry reddened and gave him a dirty look. Not the good kind of dirty.

"Dithering is not an exclusively feminine characteristic. I've never seen Hermione dither in my life. And there's no such thing as manly makeup. Or if there is, it just means you're a manly woman."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "You're insulting some of my best friends, you know. Pansy is perfectly capable of being manly without the aid of makeup. And you've dodged the point, in your clumsy Griffindorish fashion. You promised me willingness to eyeline." He stepped forward.

"I did not! I would never promise something like that!" Harry yelped indignantly.

"Harry, I know it's difficult sometimes to really see ourselves, and accept the person we are. But someday, my dearest love, you're going to have to accept that you're the kind of person who would promise internationally broadcast naked Quidditch to get a blowjob in the shower room." Draco paused to reconsider his example. Since internationally broadcast naked Quidditch probably would earn Harry a few interesting sexual favors, it wasn't a great suggestion to come from the mouth of his madly possessive and psychotically jealous boyfriend. Fortunately, most of Harry's limited attention capacity was focused on the gesturing hand holding the eyeliner.

"I don't remember that," Harry said mistrustfully.

"Well, it hasn't happened. Yet. But you did tell me you'd do anything for me if I'd help you research your Alarms and Timer Charms project."

Harry's eyes flashed. "Yeah, I said that. No, you didn't help me. Will you stop jabbing that stick at me?"

Draco smiled patronizingly and flourished the pencil a bit. "What do you mean, I didn't help you? I spent two hours working on that with you!" He grinned to himself. Ah, pleasant memories.

"Distracting me before I even get the book open and snogging me on the library table - AND in full sight of the whole damn school, including Madam Pince, who I hope I never have to see again - does NOT count as helping me. I don't think anyone believes that was 'Muggle dueling'."

"You needed it. I thought it was very helpful. And generous, too."

Harry snorted. Draco smiled wider. "In that case, I should remind you that you already owed me a favor anyway. Remember the killer noodles?"

Harry shuddered at the memory, which involved Snape, a missed breakfast, a volatile Emotive-Response potion, and a pack of Vermicelli which was capable of leaping out of pots and strangling passersby. It looked like he wasn't going to win this one. He made a half-hearted pass at the noble path.

"Seeing as how you are emotionally dependent on me wearing eyeliner, I guess I'll have to make some sacrifices, and--"

Draco cut him off. "Right, don't think I'm letting you get away with the Noble Gryffindor bit. You can't admit you've run out of arguments against my luminous wit and diamond-edged reason. Come here, girly-man. Can I call you Harriet now?"

"No."

"Oh, that's right, I forgot. Sorry, Clarissa."

Harry gasped and made a choking sound. "How did you - when did you - er, why would you think I wanted to be called--" He lapsed into stutters. Draco smirked.

"Be dazzled, for my powers of the psyche are vast and great," he announced, making a grand sweep with his arm. "Oh, and you should really stop sneaking in those bottles of German booze. I think they're too much for you."

"It's not me, it's Seamus!" Harry mustered. He clenched his fists and jutted his chin at Draco. "All right, all right, just finish it quickly. Dinner's in five minutes." He crammed his eyes shut. Draco snickered.

"Well, relax first. It's all smeary from the first time."

"You attacked me! I didn't know what you were doing!" Harry protested.

"Well, at least the wizarding world can rest assured that their Savior has good reflexes, if nothing else. Although when it comes time to kill Voldemort, I'm not entirely sure throwing Bertie Bott's Beans at him and screaming like a baby banshee will sustain you for long." He bit his bottom lip and stroked eyeliner carefully onto Harry's lids.

"Hmmph. At least I'm their Savior, not their Questionable Loyalties Son of a Death Eater." He opened his eyes. "Are we done? I'm really hungry."

Draco smiled almost wide enough to make Harry worry, but just respectably enough for him to dismiss it. "Yes. If you're sure I can't do anything else to you?"

Harry's eyebrow quirked. "There's plenty you can do to me, believe me. But you have to let me get dinner before you drag me away." He grinned. Draco beamed at him.

"Go on, then. I'll head the other way around and come in from the back entrance," he said, pushing Harry out the door. Then he turned full heel away, running to get to the Great Hall before Harry, and called out too softly for Harry to make out, "Too bad you never researched those Timer Charms, though. And drag always comes before dinner!"

Then he ran to get a seat for the big show. In private, he and Harry Potter might be lovers close enough to share eyeliner. But in public, Draco Malfoy was definitely not going to miss it when the Boy Who Lived walked into the Great Hall and turned into the Boy Who Wore Fishnets And A Red Corset.