Drarry Oneshots

△⃒⃘ Hookups △⃒⃘

1466 words

The 8th year common room was packed full of students. A playlist of muggle and wizarding music blasted through the speakers (nobody knew whose they were, but everyone was too tipsy to care). Beer, punch, firewhiskey, and -as the muggleborns called it- "good old vodka" were all being consumed at a slightly alarming rate. Everyone was stressed out and really needed a break, so the 8th year solution was simple; throw a proper rager. As one does.

Drunk karaoke, tipsy Twister, truth/drink/dare, you name it, the common room had it all. For the first time, well, ever, people were just happy to mingle. The war served as a chilling reminder of what separation and hatred does. Therefore, anyone who came back spent the first month or so in school apologising, and accepting apologies. After that, partying could ensue with a clear conscience.

Blaise and Neville, noticeably drunk, stumbled onto the karaoke stage and seized the microphone.
"Aight bizshez, lissen up!" Blaise slurred. "Who wans tah play a game?"
Scattered cheers went through the 8th years.
"Right, here's how it's gonna work," Neville explained. "Whoever's brave enough will take a shot of veritaserum. Then, a topic will be pulled out of a hat. Look at this hat," he ruffled the papers in it. "Isn't it a dope hat? It's a really cool hat."
"Issa great hat, babe," Blaise confirmed.
"Right so what we're gonna do then, is we have to write down on our arms EVERY person who's been in this situation with us. Oh, and we charmed the ink so it won't come off for 24 hours."
"If you wanna play, go to the bar!"

Not excited about the potential of the game to reveal some big secrets, most weren't interested. But a few people still came to the bar. Among them were Harry, Ron, Hermione, Dean, Seamus, Pansy, Draco, and a some others.
"Ight, here's your shots," Blaise gestured.
"Blaise, you really can't handle your alcohol, huh?" Pansy noted.
"Yeah I can!"
A shake of the head from Neville proved otherwise.

Once everyone had taken a shot and grabbed a marker, Neville pulled a paper out of the hat. "And our topic is... People you've slept with!"
"Oh shit," Harry groaned, earning a giggle from the group.
"Yeah, that about sums it up," Draco replied.
With that, people started to write on their arms.

Most were done within half a minute or so, including Pansy, who watched her friends in disbelief. Hermione and Neville both wrote for way longer than anyone expected; Ron quite obviously didn't look too thrilled. Blaise attempted to write, but all that came out was scribbles. After a couple of minutes, only Harry and Draco were still writing.
"Mate, are you a slow writer, or is it actually that long a list?" Ron asked Harry with obvious concern in his voice.
"Uhh... both."

After a record-breaking three minutes, Draco was the last to finish writing. He looked at people's shocked expressions. "What are you staring at? Don't pretend some of you aren't on here."
Several people were suddenly very interested in the floor, walls, and ceiling.

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The morning after was full of splitting headaches. Ron sat on the couch, looking nothing short of shellshocked.
"What's up with you?" Harry inquired.
"Read 'Mione's list this morning."
"Oh, that couldn't have gone well."
Ron shook his head. "Out of all the blokes she could have chosen..." he trailed off.

Harry decided that neither of them were in the right state of mind to continue that conversation. He stood up and walked to the common kitchenette (provided as a coffee haven to the 8th years). As he approached the "coffee palace", he heard running water and a desperate "fuuuuuuuck! This cannot be happening!" Harry was thoroughly intrigued, and peeked into the kitchen.

What he saw was Draco, looking like a complete mess rather than his usual put-together self, scrubbing his forearm.
"Someone isn't having a great morning," Harry noted smugly, making Draco jump a little.
"Fuck off, Potter."
"No, thanks."
Harry moved to the coffee machine and put down a cup. "You do know the ink was charmed, right?"
Draco froze. "What!?"
"Yeah, Neville said something about the ink being charmed to not come off for a full day."
"Shit," Draco looked at his arm, and all the names.
"Look, mate, there's not much you can do about it now. Don't bother." Harry paused. "Coffee?"
Draco thought a moment. "Sure."

A comfortable silence settled over the two. Harry took this opportunity to study the unusual state Draco was in. His hair was a wavy mess, but still looked annoyingly perfect. Rather than the usual crisp uniform, he wore a plain v-neck tee and a pair of grey joggers. It really surprised Harry how different Draco looked before getting ready for the day. He preferred the way he looked now, honestly.

After a minute, Draco was the one to speak. "Let's pray Ron doesn't see my list, or I'm done for."
"Why?"
Draco moved closer to Harry, so that he could see the writing.
"Look; here, here, and over here on this arm."
Harry read the names. "Well that explains his comment about 'Mione's list," he mumbled.
"Yeah..."
"Wait... when did you hook up with George!?"
Draco turned bright red and lowered his voice, "bloody hell, Potter, stop shouting! Are you trying to get my neck broken?"
"Doesn't answer my question."
Draco stared at Harry with an expression somewhere in between quizzical and utterly bewildered. After a minute, he sighed. "5th year. After one of the quidditch matches."
"... I honestly wasn't expecting you to answer..."
"Oh. Well then."
Harry looked over at Draco's other arm. "Oh look. The one person our lists have in common," he sighed. Ginny does like a good party, and hates leaving alone.
Draco shifted slightly and nodded.

The next few minutes were spent studying their arms, discussing names. Draco stopped a moment after reading a particular name, looking up from their arms at Harry.
"Well Potter, didn't know you swing both ways. Or was that a one-off occurrence?"
Harry looked down at the name. "Shit, didn't think I'd actually write that one down."
"We were under veritaserum, of course you wrote all the names down." He paused. "Well now both of us have a reason to avoid Ron today." Draco seemed to go through a quick internal debate, before adding; "and seriously Potter, of all the Weasley brothers, you chose Percy? God, you have horrible taste in men." He chuckled. "I mean, I get why not Charlie, or Ron, but why not Bill? You just had to go for the annoying git?"

At that very moment, Harry noticed how close they were standing; he could feel the heat from Draco's body, and heard him breathe. Draco's smile was absolutely radiant, with his agonisingly perfect teeth, and the crinkled corners of his eyes drawing attention to his flawless cheekbones. Harry's brain decided that this was a great time for him to remember that he used to have a crush on Malfoy. He felt his cheeks heat up as his breath hitched.

Harry was quick to recollect himself physically, but not mentally. "What can I say, I guess annoying gits are just my type." He blurted out without thinking.
Draco snapped his gaze up to Harry's eyes, the mercury in his glinting curiously. Harry was mesmerised by those eyes. Grey on the outside, with a ring of icy blue around the pupil. Harry thought back to one of Hermione's numerous rants, and remembered her calling this 'sectoral heterochromia', or one of its subtypes. Whatever it was, oh Merlin, it's intoxicating.

Harry was snapped out of his thoughts when Draco spoke. "So what you're telling me, is that every time you called me 'annoying' or a 'git', it was a compliment?"
Harry's cheeks flushed bright red again, and he tried to avoid looking Draco in the eyes.

Without a warning, Draco lifted Harry's chin and kissed him. As dumbfounded as Harry was, his reflexes wasted no time in responding. They kissed slowly and gently at first, but their impatience got the best of them. Soon Harry was sat up on the countertop with his hands in Draco's hair, while the other was standing between his legs, his hands roaming Harry's torso. Every little touch and change in pressure sent waves of electricity coursing through them, creating an almost magnetic pull towards each other.

A loud cough stopped them, making them jump apart, lips swollen and breathing heavy. They had been interrupted by a very hungover Blaise. He looked at the two with an unreadable expression. Finally, he spoke. "Get a room... you're blocking the coffee machine."

Draco looked Harry in the eyes. "My room's closer."

"Let's go."