After setting the trunks back, Ron went out and played Quidditch with everyone else. Throughout the practice, he kept glancing at the blonde-haired boy. Not only did he stick out like white writing on a black page, his new found confusion of the boy was constantly fresh in his mind.
He remembered it, almost like time slowed down in that exact moment. He'd lifted the trunk lid, hoping for some sort of ancient book of curses or a cursed totem that the boy planned to leave at the house to forever leave the Weasley family with misfortune, but what he'd seen was far beyond anything he'd imagined. The trunk in question, was full of women's clothes. Skirts and oversized sweaters, stalkings and-
He forced himself to stop thinking. Well, tried anyways. But he couldn't help but let his mind wander. Did Draco have a sister and he simply confused trunks? We're the clothes for Pansy when they were at school? Or... were they truly his? Those skirts and sweaters and stalkings-
"Ugh! Just stop thinking!" Ron growled, hitting himself in the forehead with his gloved hand, luckily no one was to see since they were on the other side of the field. However, not thinking was an impossible task. His mind began to wander yet again.
His mind drifted to Hogwarts, running after Malfoy in the hall. It didn't seem angry, however, almost as though they were chasing each other for fun. Malfoy had a one-size-too-big uniform shirt tucked into the hem of a dark grey skirt, the kind the girls wear as part of their school dress. Even his piercing, silver eyes seemed to be soft. Colour flooded the ginger's face when the other took up the stairs, his skirt flicking up just enough while he ran. Just enough to see a small portion of lace, gently hugging the boys thigh. If he'd just get a few more steps ahead-
"Ron! Block it!" The voice of his best friend broke him from his daydream. Reacting on instinct, he hit the 'quaffle' out of the way of the goalpost.
What in the name of Merlin am I thinking?! Malfoy!? Dressed like that!? I must be going mad...
