Drarry Oneshots

Pampered Potter

A/N: Requested by doggocatfishy, I hope I did okay! I edited it btw because I wanted it to be cleaner. Enjoy!

Also, please check out my Star Wars oneshots, linked at the bottom! I am updating more there because I've sort of lost interest in HP (a little), so that's why updates are slow here.

Harry's Point of View

It was eighth year and Harry had never felt more alone. Hermione was absorbed in her studies, Ron was withdrawn to his room, and he and Draco were bickering in the hallways between classes.

An encounter would go something like this:

"Potter had a perfect home," Draco said loudly over the heads of every student in the Charms corridor.

All heads turned towards Harry, who was pushing through everyone to get to Transfiguration on time. "Potter had a horrible family," he muttered under his breath.

And then Draco would glare at him, and Harry would avert his eyes.

And then the same thing would repeat the next day.

Harry was sick of it, and so were all the teachers.

So Harry told Dumbledore (who is alive).

And Dumbledore said he'd do something, and then got the look on his face that made Harry just a tad bit worried about this plan of his.

So he shoved it to the back of his mind and forgot about it.

Draco's Point of View

"You requested to see me, headmaster?" Draco asked Dumbledore politely, though it looked as though he wanted to sneer.

"Yes, Draco. Some things were brought to my attention and I thought it may help if you saw these." Dumbledore removed a large, silvery bowl from a cabinet, which Draco recognized at once as a Pensieve. Wispy memories already swirled in its depths.

"You are to come here every night until I see fit to stop; view exactly one memory, and then you may go. I do not know yet what effect this will have on your behavior. I do hope it yields positive results, though."

"Thank you, headmaster," Draco spoke, and turned to enter the Pensieve. Then he turned back, interrupting Dumbledore's exit. "If I may ask, sir, whose memories are these?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he merely shook his head, leaving and shutting the door behind him. 

Draco took a deep breath and entered the Pensieve.

He appeared in a house. It was extremely neat, with everything arranged perfectly straight on the shelves (Not. A. Single. Comment.) and a sickly peach color on the walls nearest.

Draco heard shouting, and he moved towards the noise, realizing only now that this must be a non-magical household, for there was a lack of elves, Floo powder, and spellbooks. Intrigued, even if he would never admit it, he passed through the open doorway leading to what must have been a sitting room.

He said "must have been" because the whole thing was covered in letters.

He recognized them at once as letters from Hogwarts, and the boy in the middle of the room -- his heart gave a jolt -- couldn't have been anyone but a young Harry Potter.

He appeared to be trying to catch and open a letter, the zeal with which he was doing likely meaning this was his first glimpse, but a fat man with an ugly moustache and purple face snatched it away from him.

Harry moved to another letter, ripping it open in delight. Just as he was about to unfold it, however, the fat man ripped it out of his hands. "OUT!" he bellowed, bits of spittle exploding over Harry's face. Harry cringed and ran out of the room, and the memory cut to black, indicating the end.

Only one memory, Draco reminded himself. But he couldn't help but stay as the scene shifted.

This time, he appeared in a small bedroom filled with all sorts of junk and in the middle of it all sat Harry again, looking a little older and a little cuter.

He seemed to be doing homework, every once in a while looking over at the cage on his desk that held a beautiful snowy owl. 

But the cage was padlocked shut, and Harry didn't have a key, as was obvious as he went over to her, petting her head as she hooted mournfully, looking at the window, which had bars over it. 

"I know, Hedwig," Harry whispered. "I can't let you out, though. I'm so sorry." He sighed and went back to his bed, returning to his parchment.

A cat flap installed in the door that Draco hadn't noticed before was pushed open, and a bony hand holding a half-opened can of cold vegetable soup entered, putting it down and withdrawing.

Harry walked over to the door, picked up the can, and downed most of it in one gulp. The rest of the soggy vegetables he tipped into the owl's food tray, who hooted dejectedly. "I know, Hedwig," Harry told her grimly. "But it's all we've got."

Draco realized with a jolt that the door must be locked. How long had Harry been in here? He didn't even notice he was crying a bit until a tear rolled down his cheek.

Sniffing a bit, he rose out of the Pensieve, dried his face, and walked back to his dormitory, just after noticing a note that read, There will be no need for you to come back another night. -Professor Dumbledore.

Harry's Point of View

Harry was back in the Charms corridor the next day, trying to focus on not tripping as he waited for the daily dose of Malfoy arrogance. If only he knew.

To his surprise, though, it never came. Harry even dared look up to see if Malfoy was maybe just out sick or something else impossible, but he was right there, looking down as well.

Harry turned the corner and found himself in an empty hallway. "Potter."

Harry whirled around to find an attractive blond man behind him. "What is it, Malfoy?" He willed his voice to stay strong, where in reality he was worried he'd get hexed.

"I just wanted to apologize to you, Harry. For all the snarky comments. They were unfounded, hurtful, and false, and I wanted to see what I could do to make it up to you."

Harry was taken aback, wondering if this was some kind of joke.

"I'm serious. I... saw some memories. And I wanted to tell you I'm sorry. And I also... I also wanted to hug you, if that is okay."

Harry smiled. "Of course, Draco," he said, and opened his arms for a hug.