Drarry Oneshots

△⃒⃘ Amends △⃒⃘

1381 words
Harry hadn't exactly planned on this. When he returned to Hogwarts for his 8th year, he had no idea of how it was going to go. He hadn't considered that all of the 8th years would be living in the same tower. And he forgot that would involve the Slytherins too.
He couldn't have predicted that his first interaction of the school year would be Malfoy strolling into his train compartment to apologise.

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A knock on the sliding door startled Harry, who was lost somewhere in his own daydream. "Come in," he called cautiously, thinking it would be yet another kid asking for an autograph.
He was surprised, however, when somebody very different came in. The blond stood in the doorway, looking nervous and ashamed, but still carrying his usual commanding air. "Hey," he said, almost in an asking tone.
"Hi, Malfoy." Harry saw the other man flinch slightly at the mention of the name.
"It's Black now, actually... but honestly I prefer Draco."
"Oh," was all Harry could really think of as a reply.
Draco shifted slightly under his gaze. "Can I, uhm, just -" he gestured to the seat opposite Harry.
"Oh, yeah, sure, of course."

An awkward silence ensued. Both avoided making eye contact with each other, opting to stare out of the window, or study the compartment walls.

Harry couldn't help sneaking a look at Draco. His platinum hair was as smooth and shiny as ever, recovering slowly from the year's earlier events. He styled it differently, though, so that it no longer covered his neck or jaw. His eyes still had dark circles under them, but they were nothing compared to what they looked like a few months ago. His cheeks were no longer sullen, and his cheekbones were back to their authentic glow of pride. Harry's eyes surveyed further down Draco's body; he hadn't lost his hard earned quidditch muscles, that's for sure.

Then his eyes landed on Draco's left arm. The mark was gone, but his shoulder was now adorned with tattoos.
"Hey, your uh-?" Harry struggled to find the right words, instead gesturing vaguely to his own shoulder.
"Oh, these?" Draco confirmed, resolutely ignoring the strange atmosphere. "I got them in muggle London."
"And what about...?"
"It vanished when he died." Draco sighed, trying to avoid going further into the topic.
Another small 'oh' escaped Harry's lips.

They stayed quiet for a few more minutes, before Draco spoke up. "Harry, listen, I sought you out because I wanted to talk."
Harry's eyes widened a little. Guess they were on a first name basis now. "About what?"
"All of it."

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Harry never thought him and Draco would be on friendly terms. He never believed that him and his two best friends would be doing group study sessions with Draco. He didn't think that the two of them would stay up late into the night, drinking and talking.

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"I'm telling you, Ron, the guy's changed, give him a shot," Hermione told her boyfriend.
He eyed her and Harry with suspicion. The two had been trying to get Ron to listen to Draco's apology for two days now.
After the talk with Harry, Hermione was the very next person Draco found. He apologised profusely for his behaviour towards her and her friends, and she accepted his apology almost immediately. She explained that she understood he couldn't help the way he was raised, and helped him apologise to others.

Ron sighed. A moment later, he mumbled an "alright," and walked out of the common room. He wasn't sure he could forgive him, but he promised that he would at least let Draco speak.

•

A few weeks later, the first tests of the year were coming up. Hermione walked into the great hall with individual study time tables, like every year. Harry and Ron were used to it, but Draco was surprised and touched when Hermione showed him the timetable with his name on it. Harry noted that Draco was strangely cute in the moments when the hard facade he put on melted.

•

"Loosen up, Harry. The exams are over, you can have some fun, you know."
Harry looked up at the person talking to him. It was none other than Draco, the one he had become so strangely fascinated by. Harry didn't know what it was, but he found that Draco, as a concept, lured him in. It was almost magnetic; like Draco had something that was calling out to him.

"Hello..? Earth to Harry?" Draco's voice snapped Harry out of his thoughts.
Harry blinked a little, this time conscious of his surroundings. "What makes you think I'm tense?" He asked lightheartedly.
"Well, no offence, but you do look bloody miserable sitting here on the windowsill in a remote corner," Draco noted. He smiled, and Harry's breath hitched.
"Guess I do, huh?"
The blond sat down next to him. "Firewhiskey?"
"Wouldn't say no to a glass."

They sat at that same windowsill, looking out over the forest, talking about anything they could think of. They were still there past midnight, when not another soul was left in the common room.

Somehow, their conversation came back to September 1st.
"Why were you alone in the compartment anyway?" Draco asked. "I thought you'd at least be with Ron and 'Mione."
Harry sighed a little. "Well, Ron was still a little bit iffy around me after I broke up with Ginny."
Draco sat up a little. "Wait, you guys broke up?"
"Yeah. I tried to explain to her that it's nothing personal, but she still wasn't fond of the explanation that 'dating you made me realise I wasn't into girls'." Harry paused. "It sounds stupid in hindsight, actually. I hear it now."
He could have sworn Draco was almost happy, and Harry couldn't figure out why that made him happy too.

Draco suddenly said, "let's play a game." He conjured up a bottle of firewhiskey and two shot glasses.
"Which one?" Harry asked, already on board.
"Never have I ever."
"Alright, you go first."
"Never have I ever genuinely hated someone."
Harry thought a moment, then took a shot. He felt the heat of the whiskey down his throat send goosebumps down his arms. "Never have I ever gotten a tattoo."
Draco rolled his eyes - though smiling a little - and took a shot. "Never have I ever used a spell the function of which I didn't know."
Harry's eyes went wide. And he took a shot. "Don't think I ever apologised for that, actually." Then, after a small pause, he continued. "Never have I ever shagged a guy."
Shot. "Never have I ever shagged a girl."
Shot. "Never have I ever gotten a blowjob."
Shot. "Never have I ever been as attracted to someone as I am right now."
Harry didn't drink, and his cheeks flushed pink. He regained his composure, and let the whiskey act.

"Never have I ever wanted to kiss someone as much as I do right now."

Harry watched as Draco sat, unmoving. He decided to just go for it. "Then do it," he blurted, staring right into the other man's eyes.
He watched something shift in Draco's eyes, before the latter leaned in and closed the agonisingly large gap between them.

That's when Harry knew, he was stuck.

Harry had certainly never imagined sitting in Draco's lap, fists in his hair, while the other man devoured his neck. He quickly decided he loved the feeling. The occasional moans, groans, and heavy breaths that Draco let out put Harry on cloud nine.
When Draco brought his attention back to Harry's lips, they began to struggle for dominance, but Harry quickly gave up fighting and gave in to Draco, letting him explore every inch of his mouth. The feeling of being at the blond's mercy was exhilarating to Harry, and he was practically praying it wouldn't be a painfully vivid dream.

But when they finally pulled apart, they both knew it was too good not to be true. Draco stared into the bright, shining eyes of the man now sitting in his lap. The pair of emeralds glittered brightly, what little light that was left in the fireplace reflecting in them. All Draco could think about was how it wasn't just the alcohol making him feel so intoxicated.