Drarry One-shots 1

Home-dyed hair

There was no denying that they had both been very much drunk when they came up with the idea and it was ridiculous one but it sounded fun and they can do what they want, right? It was in one of those overrated muggle clubs, hidden away from the city life by a park or two, by old apartment blocks and never-ending treads of narrow, moonlight filled streets.

The music was just as loud as it has always seemed but something about each other's company was making it a little softer, a little distant. It almost felt like they were isolated in their own intimate bubble of love and every single dancing, intoxicated body around them seemed blurred and just a filler to this universe.

It was the lights that made the idea bloom in Harry's head because the colourful reflectors hit Draco's pale hair in such a perfect little way. From green to red to blue and then yellow and for a split second he could see his true colour shine in front of him. He pulled Draco closer and soon found himself moaning for the gentle brush of lips on his neck.

He pushed through the crowd, Draco's hand secured in his and once they were outside he stopped for a quick, messy kiss that pushed all kinds of possibilities out of the box but Harry had other things in mind.

He pulled Draco's had and the blond stumbled a little before following the Gryffindor along the empty streets of muggle London. It was late and the part of the town that they were in was rather unfamiliar to anyone who had no interest in loud music and colourful lights that made it seem like your hair is dyed.

So they walked for awhile searching for some neon signs that would invite them to spend what little cash they still had somewhere deep in their pockets and when a small, odd-looking shop came into their view Harry almost ran through its door with a slightly confused boy running behind him.

When they entered, their ears filled with some annoying, overplayed pop song mixed with a horrible amount of static and buzzing of neon lamps that streaked the ceiling. Harry made a few rounds across the shop, ignoring curious looks of the show clerk who watched him carefully over the newest edition of some fashion magazine. Draco was still standing at the door watching a head of dark messy hair swirl across the dusty floor and then look up to catch Draco's eyes with the somewhat huge amount of joy.

Draco strode to his boyfriend who, when the blond arrived, scoped half of the shelf next to him into his arms and shoved everything into Draco's arms.

"Pick one!", Harry squealed with glowing eyes full of childlike happiness.

Draco furrowed his eyebrows and threw an amused glance at Harry before taking a closer look at the boxed that was given to him. Most of them the same, in similar designs, but with a different colour in front. One would have to be truly ignorant not to realize it was hair dye due to pictures of different coloured hair and the name of the product stuck on the top as well.

"I'm not dying my hair, Potter. I'm not that drunk." Draco snorted and began placing hair dye boxes back on the shelf. "And even I were, getting a tattoo would be a better idea."

"Oh, come on!", Harry pulled the slave of his let her jacked which Draco had the nerve to talk earlier that evening. "It will look great on you! And your hair is basically white so any colour will stick!"

"Exactly! It will ruin my hair!", Draco argued. "And it's muggle! Why would I trust something muggle to touch my perfect melted gold coloured locks!"

He was very aware that his voice was echoing throughout the shop but he didn't care; they were obviously drunk and whatever shit they say it could easily be interpreted as gibberish. He sighed and looked at Harry who was now doing his best to make a cute puppy face. The blond was forcing himself not to laugh because, although it wasn't as adorable as Potter would like it to be, it was a cute attempt nevertheless. An attempt that would surely make Draco realize that he can't resist anything that Harry asks from him.