Drarry Oneshots

The Sun Won't Set

     "What are you drawing now?"

The blonde looked over his shoulder, rolling his eyes at his roommate's curious emerald eyes, "It's the contour for a sunset, Potter."

"Another one?"

"Don't question my preferences, Potter, or I won't show you it anymore," Draco mumbled, sketching the outline of a tree.

"We've been sharing a room for the past three months, Draco, you can call me Harry."

Draco growled under his breath, "I prefer to call you Potter, and I'd prefer it if you'd call me Malfoy, as we always had."

Harry sighed, not in the mood to banter on this. He slid back on his bed, twirling his wand in his hand, bored. He hadn't expected returning to the Hogwarts for what would be the seventh year that he missed out on, or rather, 'Eighth year,' to have a shared room with Draco Malfoy. Then again, he couldn't complain; It was a small tower made just for those students who didn't finish their seventh year, and Harry Potter was not one to use his status to get what he wanted. And no matter how irritating Draco's 'nothing more than roommates' policy was, Harry tolerated it for glances at Draco's secret talent.

Malfoy's art always seemed to fill Harry with a sense of peace. He was particularly keen on sunsets; Harry had noticed by his paintings over time.

He glanced at Malfoy, knowing he wouldn't spare Harry any attention while he worked deciding to go ahead and try to go to sleep. He stripped down to his boxer short, crawling under the covers, "I'm going to go to bed, wake me up when you finish," Harry announced to the focused blond, sitting his glasses on the nightstand.

"I know the drill Potter, we do this every night," Malfoy mumbled pulling out a oil pastels from his desk.

Harry nodded smiling at the busy boy at work before nodding off into a comfortable sleep.

***

"Potter, wake up."

Harry groaned, blinking his eyes open, sitting up, "You finished?" He asked Draco groggily as he slid his glasses on.

Draco nodded, grabbing Harry's wrist, pulling him from the bed and sitting him down in the desk chair. Harry shivered as the cold air hit his exposed skin, before he stared down at Draco's newest creation. He nearly gasped at the explosion of color on the page, blended so softly. The clouds seemed to dance along the sky in excitement.

Harry grinned, setting the work back down, turning to face Draco.

"So, what do you think?" Draco asked with wide eyes, the same as he always had after showing Harry his masterpieces.

"It's amazing," Harry said breathlessly, "it's so vibrant, Draco, you have remarkable talent," Draco tried to hide his grin at Harry's words. Harry took another glace at the sunsets he had done that were hanging on the wall around the desk, "Draco can I ask you something?"

Draco raised an eyebrow, "I suppose."

"Why do you like sunsets so much?" He asked, "They're beautiful, don't get me wrong, but you do a lot of them."

Draco gave a coy look, as if debating his revealing his reasoning behind his art before meeting Harry's eyes and speaking, "Because they're never the same; They have different complexities, different personalities. But even though every one of them is different, they're all considered to be the same. And somehow, even though they're so contrasting, they are the same. Whether stormy or sunny, at the end of the day, when the sun goes down, it will always be a sunset."