Beautiful

I own nothing. Not Harry. Not Draco. Not Hermione. Not Ron. I do own the laptop I'm using though! But I'd much rather have Harry.

This is my very first time posting on here. This just came to me when I was in Philosophy class. I was supposed to be taking notes, but I was thinking about Harry Potter guys in girl clothes (don't ask why) and this little not-so –little one-shot was born.

And without further adieu…The story!

Harry looked at himself in the mirror, twirling a lock of curled, raven hair around one manicured finger. His emerald eyes were framed with black eyeliner and mascara. There was a light blush on his high cheekbones and a layer of lip gloss on his rosy lips. He smiled happily at the way the green, backless sundress fit him. 'So beautiful,' he thought happily, before going over to his wardrobe and pulling out a pair of silver sandals.

"Hey mate, you ready to go yet?" Ronald Weasly asked loudly, flinging Harry's bedroom door open. Harry dropped the sandals in his hand onto the floor and whirled around in surprise.

"Ron…" he said on the verge of panic.

"Bloody hell! What in Merlin's name are you doing?" Ron gasped.

"Just…goofing around…I…I was going to surprise you and 'Mione. Give you a bit of a laugh, ya know," Harry stammered, laughing nervously.

"You mean a bloody heart attack. There is nothing funny about that, mate. Where'd you get that thing anyway?" Before Harry could respond, Hermione came rushing into the room.

"Is he ready yet? We were supposed to meet your parents fifteen minutes ag… Harry? What…"

"It was a joke," Harry said quickly, "I wanted to give you guys a laugh, but obviously it didn't work, so I'm just going to get ready to go now, okay?" Neither of them believed their green-eyed friend, but decided to accept his excuse until they could question him later.

Harry let out a sigh of relief once his friends left his room and he locked his door. 'I cannot believe that just happened,' he thought as he let the dress fall to the floor and padded over to his wardrobe in nothing but a black thong, 'I wish I could've explained…but they would never understand. Never.' Tears filled vibrant green eyes as he pulled on a pair of dark blue jeans, a plain black t-shirt, and his trainers. He magic-ed his hair back to the chin-length, shaggy mop that it was before and cleaned the make-up from his face before slipping his glasses on and going into the sitting room to face his friends.

"That's better, mate," Ron said, sighing in relief when he saw Harry.

"Much better. Now let's go. We're already late," Hermione said, grabbing both males' arms before apparating them to the Burrow.

After a long, and uncomfortable for Harry, lunch at the Burrow, the trio apparated back to Harry's house.

"Do you guys want some tea?" Harry asked, trying to smile but failing.

"No thanks," Hermione said, "Sit down and talk to us,
Harry."

"About what?" he asked, taking a seat in the armchair beside the sofa.

"Why were you dressed like that this morning?" she asked.

"I told you…"

"A lie," Ron said, "We know you well enough to know when you're lying, mate."

"You think you know me," Harry mumbled, suddenly feeling a bit angry.

"Of course we know you. We've been best friends for almost nine years," Hermione said softly.

"If you really knew me, then you'd know why I was dressed the way I was dressed this morning."

"How could we know? We didn't even know you dressed like that. Will please explain why?" she said.

"It's not like you'll understand," he mumbled.

"You don't know that until you explain it to us," she said.

"Yeah, mate, if anyone will understand, it's your best friends," Ron said.

"Okay," Harry said, taking a deep breath, "I…it's…it's just…I want to be beautiful."

"You want to be…beautiful?" Hermione asked uncertainly. He nodded.

"You do know, blokes aren't supposed to be beautiful, right?" Ron said, looking at his friend oddly.

"I want to be beautiful. After all I've done, I think I deserve to be beautiful if that's what I want."

"But Harry…" Hermione started.

"I want to be beautiful! Is that too much to ask? Do you not think I can be beautiful? That's what it is, isn't it?" Harry sobs, his voice breaking on the last word.

"No, Harry, that's not what we meant," she said, desperately trying to calm her sobbing friend. "We just…we don't understand," she admits.

"Of course not. I knew you wouldn't understand!"

"We're trying, Harry. Can you explain what you mean? What do you mean you want to be beautiful?"

"I mean just that. I want to be beautiful. I…I've always felt like such an ugly, clumsy, awkward freak. For once in my life, I want to feel beautiful. So after my last year at Hogwarts, I decided I was going to be beautiful no matter what."

"But Harry…why beautiful?" she asked gently, "Most guys don't want to be beautiful. They want to be cute or handsome or good-looking or sexy…not beautiful. And you are those things Harry. You're gorgeous. You always have been."

"No," he said, shaking his head and sniffling, "I'm not any of those things. I can't be. But I can be beautiful. I was beautiful this morning…in that green dress. I was so pretty. Wasn't I?"

"...The dress was pretty, Harry, but dresses are for girls."

"Says who?" he exclaimed angrily, "There's no rule that says I can wear a dress if I want to."

"But you shouldn't wear a dress and make to try to be something you're not."

"Are you saying…I'm not beautiful?" he asked softly.

"No, I'm not talking about trying to be beautiful. I'm talking about trying to be a woman, Harry."

"I'm not trying to be a woman. I just want to be beautiful. Why can't you understand that?" he asked desperately.

"I'm trying, Harry, I am, but it's hard. Just give us some time, okay?" she said, standing, "We're going to go now, okay because I think we need some time to think. Ron?"

"You were right," Ron said, standing as well. Harry stared up at him in confusion.

"What…"

"I don't know you. The Harry I know isn't a freak." And with that, Ron apparated away.

"Oh Harry," Hermione said as Harry just stared at the spot Ron just occupied, "he didn't mean that. I know he didn't. He's just…overwhelmed, but he'll come around. He will."

"Just go, okay? Please?" he pleaded, "I just want to be alone right now."

"Okay, but I'll talk to you later. We're still friends, Harry, and Ron…"

"Stop! Just go, okay?" he yelled frustratedly. Hermione quickly apparated away without another word. Harry immediately went to his bedroom, stripping off his clothes as he went until he was wearing nothing but his thong. He was almost frantic as he pulled on a pair of red short shorts with the word LOVE written across the back and a black tank top with sequins. After pulling on a pair of black snow boots (Uggs), he lengthened and curled his hair before pulling it into a high ponytail wit a few strands falling around his face. "Almost," he whispered to himself before applying eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss. He sighed to him himself in relief as if a great burden had been lifted off his shoulders. He sprayed on a bit of perfume before going back into the living room to curl up on the sofa with his legs tucked under his bum and watch the telly. 'I knew they wouldn't understand,' he thought as he flipped through the channels on the telly, 'but that's okay. I don't need them. I don'tneed…my friends who I've known since I was eleven years old. My only real friends.' He dropped the remote control onto the sofa, and the sound of the telly was drowned out but the sound of the sobs that racked through the green eyed man's body

Two Days Later

Harry sat on the sofa in a green camisole and a pair of pink sweat pants that he got from a muggle store called Victory Secrets painting his toenails red. He hadn't heard from Hermione or Ron, and as much as he hoped he would, he knew he probably wouldn't. 'Somebestfriends,' he thought angrily.

He was just starting to put a clear coat on his left foot when there was a knock at his front door. 'I wonder who that could be,' he thought as he got up to answer it, walking with his toes up in that weird way that people walk when their toenails are wet. He gasped in shock as he opened the door and came face to face with a pair of all-too-familiar silver eyes.

"Hello, Potter," drawled the all-too-familiar voice.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" he asked with more curiosity than annoyance in his voice.

"I just had to see if it was true, and apparently it is," Malfoy said, smirking as he walked past Harry into his house and into his sitting room.

"What's true?" Harry asked, shutting the door and following him into the sitting room.

"I overheard the weasel ranting to his brothers who own that dreadful shop in Diagon Alley about his best friend being a 'freak in women's clothing'. Although, I must admit, you don't look as freakish as I expected. Care to explain why you're dressed like this?" 'Ron told Fred and George about me? And he still thinks I'm a freak.'

"Not really. If my so-called best friends don't understand, then I highly doubt you will," Harry said, checking to make sure his toenails were dry before curling up on the sofa.

"Try me," Draco said, crossing his legs and sitting back in the armchair. Something about the sincere interest in the silver eyes staring at him made Harry want to tell the blonde.

"I want to be beautiful. I don't want to be the ugly, clumsy, awkward freak, I felt like in school. I want to be beautiful. It's as simple as that," he said.

"Harry," Draco said, surprising both himself and the green-eyed male by calling him by his first name, "You weren't any of those things in school…except maybe clumsy, but in an adorably cute way."

"Y-you thought I was cute?" Harry gasped in shock.

"Did and still do," Draco said, nodding.

"Is that why you offered to be my friend that first day at school?" Harry asked curiously.

"Part of the reason. I know we were only eleven, but I still thought you were cute. I remember thinking you had the prettiest eyes I'd ever seen. And I just knew after I introduced myself, we'd become friends and you'd fall in love with me just because I'm Draco Malfoy. I know I'm arrogant. But then you rejected me. Malfoys don't take rejection well."

"And that's why you were such an arse to me for seven whole years."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Whoa, Draco Malfoy just apologized to me," Harry said in faux shock.

"Yes well, don't get used to it," the blonde said, rolling his eyes playfully.

"Of course not," the brunette said, suddenly biting his lip and shyly looking up at Draco from underneath long, raven eyelashes, "So…I know you said you thought I was cute, b-but…d-do you think I'm beautiful?"

"Yes, I do," Draco said, moving to sit next to Harry, "but not because of your clothes or your make-up. You are beautiful no matter what you wear. You always have been." Harry shook his head and started to disagree, but Draco reached up to cup his cheek and shushed him. "No, don't disagree. You are and always have been beautiful. You were beautiful when you showed up to Hogwarts with those big, beautiful green eyes trying to take in every sight. You were beautiful whenever you defended your friends when I insulted them. You were beautiful the first time you beat me at Quidditch. You were beautiful when you rode that hippogriff in Care of Magical Creatures. You were beautiful when you fought that dragon in the Twi-Wizard Tournament. You were beautiful when you attended the Winter Ball and danced with that Patil girl. You were beautiful when you defeated Voldermort and made the wizarding world safe. And you're beautiful right now with that adorable blush, those chapped lips, and those big, innocent green eyes that should never ever cry." As he said this, he wiped away the tears that had started to fall from vibrant green eyes. "You don't have to dress a certain way to be beautiful. You could wear and old, dirty t-shirt and sweats and still be the most beautiful creature I've ever laid my eyes upon."

"Y-you really mean that? All of that?" Harry asked in an astonished whisper.

"Every word," Draco said before leaning down and capturing the smaller male's rosy lips in the most passionate kiss either male had ever experienced. When they broke away from each other after several minutes, they were both panting slightly and two sets of cheeks were flushed. The taller male slipped his arm around the smaller male's waist, pulling him against his side and sighed contently. The smaller male, on the other hand, bit his lip as something bothered him terribly.

"Draco?" he said softly.

"Yes, beautiful?"

Harry's heart leapt at being called beautiful, but bit his lip nervously before asking, "Will it bother you if I still dress like…this…sometimes?" Draco looked at Harry in the camisole and fitting sweat pants for a minute before smiling.

"Of course not, love," he said, pulling Harry onto his lap. Harry snuggled against the taller male and sighed in contentment as long, pale fingers began to card through his long, wavy hair.

"I love you, Draco," he murmured, burying his face in the crook of said male's neck.

"I love you too, beautiful." And Harry did feel beautiful, but not just because of the black and red lacy thong that he was wearing from that muggle store Victoria Secrets. Though he was thinking about going back there sometime soon.

The End!

Please Rate and Review! I reaaally want to know what you think! (*mumbles* If anyone's even reading this.)