Drarry Oneshots (𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆)

Allegiance

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Author: Ladderofyears ( on ao3 )

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Harry was humming again. He always made the same little tune – something Muggle, barely audible – and it was only the shyest whisper of a sound.

It was another of the tiny tics that the Chosen One wasn't even aware of but Draco, over the course of the last nine weeks, had gotten to know intimately.

The blond wizard closed his copy of Most Potente Potions and slid it across the cracked wood of the library table. He let his eyes rest on his fellow Eighth Year.

If Harry was humming then whatever Harry was reading had piqued his interest. Draco watched as Harry's green eyes tracked across the parchment. He was obviously fascinated by his reading material. Had Harry have been bored, he would have been playing with the fraying material on his cuffs or perhaps ticking his palm with the feather of his quill. Harry's eyes would have been everywhere except on the page.

Draco sighed and tried to pull his eyes away. He had three sides of notes to make on the magic qualities of unicorn horn due first thing tomorrow. Slughorn wouldn't be chuffed at all were he to fail to produce homework once again.

When Draco had imagined this awkward, difficult Eighth Year, the last thing he'd considered was the fact of Harry Potter's existence.

Draco hadn't thought for even half a second that Harry would have returned to Hogwarts alongside the ragged remnants of their school year. Harry was supposed to have been snapped up by the Aurors, or by the Ministry, and dropped head-first into some plum job. He was supposed to be unveiling statues, kissing babies and winning 'most fanciable' awards.

He wasn't supposed to have come back to plague Draco's existence.

Draco certainly hadn't considered that Headmistress McGonagall – as enthusiastic as always about House unity – would have chosen to house the two of them together in a shared room.

As for knowing the other wizard's quirks and foibles better than he did his own? If any wizard had told Draco that back in September, he most likely would have laughed in their face. For the past six years Harry had been an enigma to Draco. A fascinating, aggravating enigma. Of course, the two of them had shared plenty of lessons. They'd battled on the Quidditch Pitch and given each other filthy looks in the Dining Hall, but the real Harry – the living, breathing wizard – hadn't really existed in Draco's mind.

Harry had only ever been an idea: a stupid glittering git, beloved by their teachers or his tricky enemy that had ruined his family. He'd been the condescending arse that refused to shake his hand.Harry hadn't been a person. Harry hadn't hummed when he was interested in something. He hadn't grumbled incessantly that he was hungry or cleaned his glasses whenever he was confused. Harry hadn't spread out his legs beneath the table and taken up all the room beneath. Harry's brown, freckled forearms hadn't brushed against Draco's own on the scratched wood of the school desks. Harry hadn't made ill-thought out comments on who might win the Quidditch League or talked ceaselessly in his sleep.

After two months of spending nearly every waking moment with Harry – and sleeping beside him at night – Draco knew Harry better than anyone else in his life.

~~

Draco's intimate knowledge of the Saviour had begun on a dull day back in March. Harry and he had been paired to work together for a History of Magic project.

Binns had set them an intriguing task. Their Eighth Year class had been told their job was to research wand cores, a subject that Draco had always found captivating. The Professor had given Harry and he dragon heartstrings for their specialist subject and it hadn't taken Draco long to find out the basic history. 'Dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most power and were capable of the most flamboyant spells,' Draco had jotted down in his notebook, 'and tend to learn more quickly than other wand cores.'