Drarry Oneshots 2

of elegance and secrecy

I just had some really beautiful images in my head and I wanted to write them so here's a fun combo of Pansmione Drarry and Blairon

Ron watches them spin elegantly, each movement perfectly coordinated to the flow of the music.

The soft lights glint off of the millions of tiny diamonds hanging from the ceiling, creating a beautiful pattern throughout the ballroom.

"Aren't you going to dance?"

He turns to acknowledge Blaise. "I don't have a date."

A slow smile crosses Blaise's face, and he sets down his drink. "Well, we can't have that."

Ron only raises one eyebrow.

Blaise steps to stand right in front of him, a single hand outstretched. "Monsieur Weasley, will you grant me the honor of dancing with you?"

Ron can't help the smile crossing his face as he takes Blaise's hand. "I will."

Blaise twirls him, and soft laughter escapes Ron as they assume their dancing positions.

"So I'm the girl?"

Blaise only leans forward, his eyes meeting Ron's. Ron is breathless as they match the pace of the dancers around them.

"Ron, if you were a girl, we wouldn't be dancing together."

*

Harry can only stand there, stunned by the beauty of Draco Malfoy.

The other man sits on a chair with his back to the balcony, leaning his chair back far enough to make Harry anxious. 

Rain falls around the blonde, and yet he looks immaculate as ever as he sips his wine.

The back of the chair touches the railing of the balcony, and at the same time, there is a flash of lightning, illuminating Draco's whole figure.

And for a second, a split second, Draco's eyes look like fire, caught in the luminescence of lightning.

Time seems to stand still. Draco tilts his head back into the rain, lowering the hand that holds the wine glass and closing his eyes.

Harry has never believed in angels, but how can he not when one is so clearly right in front of him?

*

The flower fields whisper secrets into the winds as they sway, and Hermione is captivated by them for a second, before someone far more captivating catches her attention.

Pansy sits atop a picnic table in the midst of the flowers, blowing a cloud of smoke into the sky before drawing the cigarette back to her lips.

"They'll kill you, you know," Hermione murmurs as she sits next to Pansy.

"So will everything else." Pansy lowers the cigarette, turning to meet Hermione's eyes. "So live in the moment, hm?"

"Yeah," Hermione murmurs, entranced by the purple lipstick on Pansy's lips. It hasn't come off on the cigarette, would it come off on Hermione's lips? "Live in the moment."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Pansy drops the cigarette onto the seat of the table, crushing it underneath her shoe. "Are you going to kiss me, or not?"

Hermione can't even find herself surprised at the question, because Pansy has answered it by leaning forward and capturing her lips.

Her lipstick does not, in fact, come off.