Drarry Oneshots

△⃒⃘ Fucking Gorgeous △⃒⃘

Muggle AU
Smut ;)
3454 words

The midnight lobby of a dingy hotel somewhere in the streets of Rome was packed with 7 sixteen-year-olds and one adult. This was the Hogwarts Senior Competitive Swimming Team, and their coach, Ms Hooch.

"Alright, everyone quiet down, I'm about to tell you who you will be living with for the duration of this week. And I will not repeat myself!" Ms Hooch's sharp, commanding voice immediately silenced the group.

"Since we have three girls, you will all live together, so that's Hermione Granger, Pansy Parkinson, and Hannah Abbot. Come take your keys, you are in room 304."

The three girls exchanged high-fives and took their room key from their teacher.

"Now then, we're left with four boys. Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, I have direct instructions from Headmistress McGonnagal to put you in one room, so you two will be in room 202. That leaves us with Ronald Weasley and Neville Longbottom in room 205."

The group went silent, with only Neville letting out a low whistle and Ron sucking in air sharply through his teeth. Harry and Draco were locked in an exasperated glare war.

"Coach," Neville said quietly, "are you sure they won't kill each other?"

Ms Hooch looked unsure, but still answered with "not on my watch."

Ron gave Harry a sympathetic pat on the back with a small "good luck, mate."

Harry couldn't believe how horrid his luck was. Him and Draco had been rivals for as long as they had known each other, and joining the school's swim team only intensified it. They were constantly competing for first place, and they were constantly neck and neck. Earlier that year, their competitiveness jumped to the next level when they got into a fight. And then it kept happening, again and again. They were essentially the headmistress' personal nightmare. Eventually, she told them outright; another fight, and they will both be kicked off the team.

So, they made a truce of sorts. At least on physical fights - insults and threats are still very much on the table.

Harry briefly collected himself before taking the key from Ms Hooch.

"Alright, now that's sorted. I am going to be in room 301 if you need me. We're leaving for a practice at 7 sharp tomorrow morning. Don't be late." Ms Hooch looked over her group again before dismissing them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry carried his bags up the stairs to the second floor, cursing the broken elevator. Even as him and Draco walked upstairs, the air between them was tense. They hadn't said a word to each other all day.

As they pushed open the door to the room, they were greeted with the smell of expired mothballs. The whole room was carpeted with a worn green textile, spotted with unsettling brown stains. The furniture was old and crammed together; the room clearly hadn't been built to accommodate two twin beds, two bedside tables, a writing desk, and a chair.

"Great." Draco grunted, unimpressed.

Draco sank into the tattered desk chair, not bothering to disguise his annoyance. Harry instead opted to unpack, to avoid being idle around the blond for too long. Draco fetched a book from his bag and began to read, but it did little to hide his thoroughly underwhelmed expression.

"Do you want the left side or right side of the wardrobe?" Harry asked, forcing himself to be civil.

"Don't care."

"... okay," Harry sighed, "how many shelves do you need?"

"Don't know."

Harry suppressed a frustrated grunt. "Alright."