𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗡. √

"How many times do I have to tell you, stealing's wrong, Potter?"

Honestly, Harry knew he shouldn't have agreed. He would have to be insane... which he was of course, as once again, Harry was stood in Malfoy's room, searching desperately for a pair of his boxers.

Merlin. Why am I doing this again?

Oh yeah, because you're being avoided. The thought made him slightly bitter. After all, he had done nothing wrong.

Harry rummaged around in the back of the draw and pulled out a pair of deep-green pants.

Of course, they're green.

Harry rolled his eyes, slipped them into his pocket and started to make his way out of the door.

If anything he was half expecting them to have some sort of outrageous design, like serpents in Christmas hats, or something totally un-Malfoy-ish.

Oh merlin, imagine Draco in snake Christmas boxers...

Actually, no. Harry did not want to be thinking about Malfoy's boxers at all... or Malfoy himself.

At least not until he's asked Draco why he has been avoiding him.

***
A few days past and Draco still hadn't said anything about his disappearing pants.

Harry hadn't worn them as he did with the sweater and jeans, that would be slightly weird. And not to mention un-hygenic since he would have had to wear them two days in a row.

Ew.

But then, on the third day, there was a problem.

Harry woke up late. Like super-duper late. As in, 'breakfast ended in five minutes' late.

And there was an even bigger problem at hand...

He had no boxers.

Shit.

That's what I forgot to do yesterday, give my laundry to the House Elves.

Well, I can go to lessons with nothing on under my robes...

But I don't have any pants!

His eyes scanned the room, hoping to find something to solve the problem with. Surely there was a spell, or some pants that he had left unpacked... or-

Harry's fell on his jeans.

I don't have any of my pants.

But I do have...

He ran over to the jeans and pulled out the familiar green material.

Draco Malfoy's boxers.

Okay, I actually love Hermione for her stolen idea.

Harry quickly showered and chucked his clothes on, including Malfoy's boxers. They fit him perfectly and were softer than any of his own.

Still a rich bitch I see.

Harry ran out of his dorm and didn't stop running until he reached the great hall. But before he could open the doors, a hand stuck out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him to the side.

All he saw was a flash of blonde before he was pushed up against the wall by two strong arms.

A deep voice whispered into his ear, "How many times do I have to tell you, stealing's wrong, Potter?"

Ah, shitballs...

Malfoy.