Drarry Oneshots

Broomsticks and Flowers

TW: none!
Plot: while practicing Quidditch, the golden snitch takes off and Harry follows, they fly past the arena all the way to a field of flowers where Malfoy is picking them.
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Harry keeps himself laser focused on the golden snitch, determined to catch it. Last Quidditch game didn't go too well and Malfoy easily caught it due to Harry getting distracted by the bludger ball that absolutely destroyed his hand breaking it and resulting in Harry having to go to Hospital Wing. After that incident, the team decided they'd try a scrimmage and get Harry's head in the game.

He flies through the air, trusting that he'll be protected from the iron ball purposely trying to kill him. He's been chasing the snitch for a few minutes now with no luck.

Focus Harry, he tells himself, trying not to grow agitated. He takes a deep breath and watches the snitches every move, reminding himself of his past experience with Quidditch and how good he's supposed to be- supposed to be.

Harry squints as he focuses on the snitch, following it. He blocks out the sounds of his teammates and flies high into the sky, chasing the snitch. He doesn't look down, he doesn't hear his teammates calling him.

The snitch dives down and Harry follows. Getting defeated by Malfoy plays over and over in his head. He manages to speed up and sticks his hand out as he and the golden snitch continue to dive straight down.

Harry grunts as he shuffles forwards on his broom stick, his right hand still extended. He holds his breath as he reaches out and grasps the snitch in his hand. Harry let's out an airy laugh and throws his arms up in celebration.

"Brilliant!" He yells, cheering for himself.

Harry continues laughing and puts his hands back on the broom. Before he knows it, he realizes the ground is closer than he thought. His face goes white as he continues diving down.

The Gryffindor let's out a scream as he sees a person picking flowers, knowing fully well if he doesn't move they're going to collide and get seriously injured. Harry yanks up and redirects the broom, just as it's about to hit the person.

Harry changes directions so fast that the person falls down and drops a bunch of flowers in his hand. Harry turns back to look at who he almost just killed.

"Malfoy?"

THUD!

Harry flies straight into the ground as he gets distracted, causing him to go flying off his broomstick and into a field of flowers. His glasses fly off and he rolls a bit before finally stopping on his back. His eyes shut and he lays there panting heavily, covered in dirt and grass stains.

He hears footsteps charging towards him, stomping heavily on the ground. Before he dab even open his eyes, he's getting yelled out.

"What the fuck was that Potter?! You almost killed me!" Malfoy shouts angrily at him. The blonde kicks him in the side gently, it tickles Harry more than anything.

The quidditch player groans as his body aches painfully. He sits up slowly and leans back onto his palms. He brings one hand up over his eyes and squints. He lost his glasses and the sun is blinding him, making it more difficult to see who he's talking too.

"Malfoy?" He squints harder, unable to see the face in front of him. All he sees is white blond hair and a black suit.

"Malfoy," the Slytherin mimics immaturely. "Yes, it's me you prat! You almost killed me!" He growls out while dusting off his suit.

Harry just continues to squint at him. His brain feels rattled and his mind is hazy. "My glasses," he mumbles to himself while feeling around.

"Your what?" Draco asks while placing his hands on his hips, looking sassier than usual.