Inspired by a prompt on Tumblr

Harry has only gotten through half of his breakfast, but it's already cast aside and forgotten, newer predicaments catching his attention.

Malfoy's hair is blue.

"Harry, what are you staring a-"

"Malfoy," Harry cuts Hermione off without breaking his gaze.

She rolls her eyes, and Ron sets down his fork.

"Harry, honestly, the war is over, he's not doing anything wrong-"

"Look what he did," Harry insists.

"Harry, we don't want a repeat of sixth year, Draco hasn't done anything suspicious-"

"Look at his hair!" Harry exclaims, irritated.

Ron and Hermione finally turn around and stare at the light blue Draco has dyed his hair with.

"Holy shit," Ron mutters. Hermione smacks his arm.

"It's different," she says, shrugging. "It looks strange, but I don't really care about him anymore."

"Looks weird," Ron mutters, before shoving a forkful of waffles into his mouth.

"Maybe someone cursed him," Harry says absentmindedly.

"I hope not," Hermione says. "He has enough on his plate."

Harry nods. Everyone in the wizarding world knows of Narcissa Malfoy's trial this afternoon.

His eyes travel back up again, and before he knows it he's staring again.

"Why don't you go over there and ask him?" Hermione suggests.

"Ask him what?"

She closes her eyes in exasperation. "Why his hair is blue."

"I can't just-"

"Mate, just go. You're going to be like this all day if you don't," Ron agrees.

Malfoy looks up in surprise as Harry approaches him, his cereal spoon hovering above his bowl. "Potter?"

"Malfoy," Harry says, nodding at him. He's making a serious effort to stare at Malfoy's eyes and not his hair, but it's so blue.

Malfoy sets down his spoon and pushes his cereal to the side. He's staring at Harry in confusion.

"Are you lost?" he asks, a bitter, sarcastic edge to his voice.

"No, I- Why is your hair blue?" Harry blurts out unintentionally.

Malfoy lifts a hand to curl a strand of previously-blonde hair around his finger. "Do you have a problem with it?" he asks defensively.

"No, not at all. I just want to kno- You know what, it was stupid. Nevermind." Harry starts to turn around before Malfoy's smooth voice makes him stop.

"It's poetic, Potter."

Harry turns back around to face the other boy. "Poetic?"

Malfoy shrugs, letting the stand of blue hair go, and it bounces back in its natural place. "I'm feeling blue. I dyed my hair to match. It made sense last night after the second bottle of Firewhiskey."

Harry considers this, before sitting down across from him. "Your mother?"

Malfoy nods, not looking up from his discarded cereal bowl.

"Do you- I mean would you- Can I- Would it help if I came to the trial with you?" Fuck. Did he really just ask that?

Malfoy looks up sharply. "Why would you want to do that?"

Harry feels his cheeks reddening. "Your mother saved my life. And... you might need... support."

A small smile is playing at the corner of Malfoy's lips. "I have friends, Potter."

"I didn't mean to say- I know you- I'd like to be there for both of you."

Malfoy is grinning now, a teasing grin at Harry's stuttering and blushing.

"You may come," he says finally, returning his attention to his cereal.

********************

Harry's breakfast is over before it even started. Malfoy's hair is green.

Hermione rolls her eyes. "Go ask him already." 

Malfoy grins this time when Harry approaches. "You're back."

"Your hair is green," Harry counters.

"How observant of you."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"That's not very poetic."

"His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad," Malfoy replies quietly.

Harry's head snaps up. "What?"

"His hair is as dark as a blackboard. I wish he was mine, he's really divine, the hero who conquered the Dark Lord," Malfoy continues with a shy smile. "Poetic enough for you?"

"You remember the po-"

"I wrote the poem," Malfoy corrects.

"But I always thought Ginny-"

"Nope."

"Does that mean you-you used to-" Harry can't finish his sentence, so Malfoy finishes it for him.

"Like you?"

"Yeah," Harry breathes, his throat dry.

"I thought that was obvious, Potter."

"Do you-" Harry stops himself, thinking through his words. "Do you still like me?"

Malfoy stands up, grinning. "I thought that was also obvious, Harry."

And with that, he stands up and walks out of the Great Hall.

Harry feels faint.

*********************

He barely even sits down at the Gryffindor table before he is greeted with a chorus of "Just go."

"What brings you here?" Draco asks teasingly as Harry sits down in front of him

"You know."

"Enlighten me."

"Purple isn't very poetic."

"No, I suppose it's not," Draco replies, running a hand through soft purple hair, a grin lighting up his face. "Maybe I should have chosen pink, to match your face."

Harry is speechless. Why does Draco Malfoy look good with every hair color?

"Then why purple?" he manages to whisper.

Draco leans forward, grinning. "Maybe I enjoy you coming over to my table every day to talk to me."

"You don't need purple hair to get me to talk to you, Draco," Harry says, Draco's given name spilling off his tongue easily.

"Is that so?" Draco looks very pleased. "We'll see about that."

"What does that mean?" Harry asks, but Draco is already standing and leaving.

**************

Breakfast never stood a chance. Draco's hair is pink.

Harry doesn't even bother sitting down at the Gryffindor table, opting instead to walk straight to the Slytherin table.

"Hello, Har-"

"Stand up," Harry cuts him off.

"Why?" Draco asks, looking wary.

"Because it's easier than kissing you sitting down."

That sentence has Draco's eyes widening and he is standing to face Harry.

"Do you like the pink?" he asks breathlessly. 

"Very poetic," Harry says. "But I think I liked blonde the best."

With that, he lifts Draco's chin with one hand and kisses him softly.

Ron is yelling and he thinks Pansy fell off the bench, but that doesn't matter because he's kissing Draco Malfoy and Draco is kissing back.

And Draco's hair is pink.