Harry Potter had to ask Hermione to help him get dressed. He didn't own any decent muggle clothes, and he wanted to kick this up a notch. How better to stick it in the eye of those prejudiced assholes? Hermione had smiled at what he was planning, anyway - not that he'd told her who he was going with. He just gave her a grin, and said "It's a surprise."
Which, of course, got "Harry James Potter, you know how I hate surprises."
"You'll like this one," Harry said, with a grin. Honestly, he wasn't sure she would. But he wasn't telling her beforehand for the world. If she didn't somehow transfigure this into some sort of display of InterHouse Relations, she'd lecture his ear off. Now, Hermione was Harry's friend, so he'd let her - he just wanted to have Done Something Wrong, first.
Harry knew where Draco Malfoy would be coming up to the Dance, so he found a decently hidden alcove and watched... well, everyone else. For his eyes sake, it was a good thing that nobody wanted to snog before the dance. They might have run straight into him. And wouldn't that have made a lovely mess?
Quick as a Snitch, Harry grabbed Draco Malfoy's arrogant hand, as he strutted arrogantly towards the Dance Hall. (Had Draco actually been walking at speed, the maneuver wouldn't have worked, but when did Malfoy ever not strut?)
Draco's grey eyes widened as they found themselves staring into Harry Potter's green eyes.
"Ready, lover-boy," Harry Potter said with a grin.
"Always. And look, my partner's managed to not look like a refugee." Draco Malfoy said, withi his drawl. His eyes sparkled with humor, though.
"The old," Harry said, gesturing to Draco Malfoy's fine Wizarding robes, "And the new," He said, gesturing to his own.
"Nouveau riche is the term." Draco Malfoy said with a sneer, as they started to move.
"Only if you're French. Self-made man's the Americanism." Harry Potter said with a smile.
"And what has possibly possessed you to think that I've ever encountered such a strange breed of person? An American!" Draco Malfoy spouted, sounding entirely too pompous - and unbelievable to boot.
Harry, who wanted to crack up laughing, simply directed a 'loving' smile towards the blond.
They kept up the chatter, starting a lively debate about whether Muggles or Americans were more uncouth - Draco was sure it had to be Americans, but Harry thought that half the Wizarding customs had to do with magic, and, well, when you haven't got any, you're bound to break a few rules. Or, you know, the rulebook. It was one of those lively debates that Harry remembered from getting drunk after Quiddich matches, fresh from the adrenaline high of victory.
[a/n: Neither is being terribly serious about the "who's less civilized" argument, as you might have noticed by the fact that the word Uncouth showed up.
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