Draco and Harry (Drarry) One Shots

Ghosts in the Park.

(See photo first)

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Imagine Harry not coming back to save the Wizarding world but choosing to be a ghost instead.
Imagine Draco being heartbroken because Harry Potter can't be dead. Harry isn't supposed to die, Draco realises that maybe he feels a little more than hatred towards Harry now that he's gone. Now that he's gone, Draco realises how much he loves Harry. Now that he isn't around for Draco to constantly badger, he realises how much the brunette means to him.
Imagine Draco being really depressed and this is what finally gives him the push to escape from his father.

Imagine Emo/Goth! Draco with tattoos and piercings and muggle tank tops with rock bands on. He does this partly so he won't be recognised and partly because he likes the feeling of him marking himself, not being forced to.
Imagine Draco on one of his worse days and going to where he knew Harry used to live.

Draco just stares at the house and wonders how the hell he's fallen so hard for Harry Potter.
Imagine him running away from the house, not liking how it makes him feel and accidentally goes to the park Harry was in when Dudley was teasing him in Fifth year. Draco gazes across the park, it's midnight and by the light of a few streetlights, Draco can see the swings and a cemetery behind the park.
Imagine Draco cursing himself because everything seems to remind him of Harry, how he can't even run away from his house before running into something else that reminds him of the man.

The graves unnerve him so Draco stumbles to the swing and sits on it, elbows on his knees and hands tugging at his hair.
Imagine Draco sobbing, breaking down for the first time since Harry's gone.
It's just too much, Harry Potter has actually gone, he's dead. And Harry Potter can't come back.
He doesn't care who hears, it's a muggle neighbourhood and he's prepared to curse anyone if he has to.

Imagine ghost! Harry staying in the park, Harry can't bear to stay in the Wizarding world, he can't cope with seeing what he's done, he's turned the world over to Voldemort and he went to the first muggle place he thought of, the park.
Imagine Harry being fairly happy and content because in the daytime, he gets to see all the happy children but at night it gets really spooky.
The shadows remind him of Death Eaters and the graves not only remind him of the graveyard in his fourth year, but also all the people that he's killed by not coming back.
Harry'd stay in the park at nighttime but wouldn't ever turn his back to the shadows or the tombstones.
Harry refuses to turn his back on them like he did the day he died.

Imagine Harry sitting under a metal slide one night, sheltering from the rain - not that it effects him, it just feels right.
Imagine him resting there all night, lonely, frightened and miserable.
But then he hears something, he hears Draco crying.

The word crying sounds too soft for the sound he hears. Crying sounds so delicate, too safe.
This noise wasn't soft or delicate. These tears were loud, noisy and dangerous. They were sobs. They were heartbroken.
Harry immediately knows it's Draco, sixth year etched in his memory forever.
Harry can't believe that it's actually him, that it's actually Draco. His eyes snap to the sound and he sees the ex-Slytherin on the beat up swing.
Imagine Harry floating over and staring at the man in front of him, all inked and pierced.
Harry's jaw drops at how much hotter Draco is with tattoos and muggle skinny jeans but his heart breaks, when he listens to Draco.
Up close his body-shaking cries are so much harder to both hear and witness.

Draco's whole body is shaking and Harry doesn't know why, but he wants to help.
As if on instinct, he reaches out to touch his shoulder, translucent, pale fingers outstretched.
He instantly curls his hand into a fist, retracting his hand and dropping it at his side.

Instead, Harry whispers quietly, "Draco?"
He sees Draco head snap up at his voice and he gapes over at the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry hears his breath catch in his throat and Harry bites his lip.
He smiles a little shyly, looking down at his scuffed sneakers - the ones he wore when he died.
Harry looks back up at Draco after a moment, his semi-transparent skin on his cheeks turning more opaque, showing Draco that he's blushing.
The blonde finally seems to find his voice and he whispers, his voice harsh and croaky from his tears, "Harry...?"
It's like a knife in the heart hearing Draco say his first name and he squats down so Harry is at eye-level with the broken man in front of him.
He nods once, not trusting his own voice to deal with such an important question.

Harry - without thinking - reaches out and rests a hand on his knee.
At the touch, he realises what he's done, that he's probably made Draco feel ten times worse. After all, at Hogwarts he'd walked into ghosts on many an occasion.
Harry feels Draco flood through him, all Draco's feelings at that point in time flood through him and Harry suddenly realises why walking into ghosts was like ice being poured over you, because all the ghosts feel cold. They feel forgotten, that's why they came back.

But Harry knows what Draco will feel now.
He knows that Draco will feel all his regrets, all his sadness, all his fear, his misery and his heartache for leaving Draco so vulnerable like this.
Harry realises that that means Draco will feel his worry for Draco. Draco will feel his love for Draco and his wishes to be by his side in his physical form.

And in return, Harry feels Draco's depression, his fears - although he doesn't know what, even if he wishes he did - and most of all, the pain he feels now Harry's gone.

Harry could describe Draco's feelings in a colour, Black. Empty.
But if Draco's feelings were black, his were a deep red. Harry's passion for Draco, a burning flame and also his desperate desire to be back to try and fix things.