《Drarry One-Shots》

02: "I am not in love with Potter."

“You're staring,” Pansy sang to his left. It was the morning of Christmas eve and the students who decided to stay back for Christmas break were currently eating breakfast in the great hall. Their weren't many people here this year. Most of them went back, probably because parents were worried about leaving their children back here when the war had just ended a few months ago.

Draco had stayed with Pansy as they had nowhere else to go. His mother, on house arrest and his father, rotting away in a cell in Azkaban. Pansy's parents weren't always around and there was nothing better to do at home, so there wasn't any reason for her to be there anyway.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he said, averting his eyes from a messy haired boy.

“You were staring at Potter. Again.” She was smirking now. She always did that when she thought she knew something he didn't.

“No, I wasn't. You should probably get your eyes checked,” Draco said stubbornly. He took a bite of his eggs and gave a flitting glace at the ravenette. The look was so subtle and quick, not even Pansy noticed it. And she noticed a lot of things.

“Oh, come on, Draco! Just admit you love the boy and be done with it!” she said exasperatedly. He has been doing this for months now, always making heart eyes at Potter and gushing about him. He had even started using extremely subtle flirtatious remarks when he was insulting him - she was sure she even saw Potter blush a few times –  and it was driving her mad to the point she wanted to scream at one of them to “make a move already!”

“I am not in love with Potter.” He grit out through clenched jaws, fists curled on the table top. She didn't know what she was talking about. He was not in love with Harry Potter.

Pansy sighed in exasperation and left Draco to do what he does on the daily.

She had been saying this for months. She would always tell him he was in love with Potter. He wasn't. And he was sure of it. If he had been in love with Potter, surely, he’d know.

So it boggles his mind when his best friend says this. He was not in love with Potter. Perfect Potter with all of his little fans. Honestly, who would want to date him?

Who want to would date – or love – him. Potter, with his annoying, nosy fans. Potter with his redheaded blood traitor and know-it-all muggle born friends. Potter with his Gryffindorish-ness and saving people thing.

Potter with his messy, freshly-shagged looking raven locks that seemed to frame his cute face perfectly. With his beautiful emerald like eyes that seemed to shine brighter whenever he was looking at something of his interest. Eyes that when you looked into, you would see every single emotion expressed in them.

Whose eye's would change a multitude of different shades and colours depending on how he was feeling. Emerald mixing into forest green, creating soft swirls of a beautiful deep green with hints of brown and blue flecks in his eyes, when he was cheery and overwhelmed with joy, seemed to make his heart flutter rapidly and his stomach do turns.

Those gemstones of emerald, filled with a bit more teal than usual, glazing over with unshed tears when sadness takes over. The down turn in the corner of his lips, the small pout being another, hands crossed against his chest, as if trying to block out the world, the downward tilt of his head, a frown etched onto his features as he tried not to shed those tear always made Draco feel an unusual sense of protectiveness. Made him want to bring him into his arms, to reassure him that everything was going to be alright, to never let him go. Words would not be able to describe how he felt about the other.

To him, Harry Potter was an enigma. A mystery that even the most closest of his own friends could not solve. A mystery that was ever more enticing to figure out as the years went on and another began. This little tidbit of information, or lack there of, really, endeared the blond boy.