Drarry Oneshots

Maybe, No More A Malfoy I'll Be

It was November in Scotland, snow covering the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the trees were bare and a certain blond Slytherin was looking out of a window in the library at the sight, grey eyes fixed on the snowy landscape outside and allowing himself a soft smile, sighing at the annoying girl on his left, Pansy Parkinson, who asked him question after question on their Potions assignment, due in a week’s time, which he was currently in the middle of finishing, wanting to get it done early so he could enjoy more leisurely activities, such as sneaking out of his dormitory at night or day to spend time with his secret boyfriend, Harry Potter, in the Room of Requirement or the library’s silencing charmed study booths.
No one, of course knew of Draco’s choice of love, he and Harry had decided it would be best for them to remain a secret for now, lest his father murder him and his boyfriend be hounded by the likes of Rita Skeeter for the great and glorious scandal of the Boy-Who-Lived himself to be dating scum of the earth, the son of a Death Eater.
When he was finished in the library, he curtly told Pansy, “We have missed dinner, I’m going to the kitchens to get something to eat.” he looked at her, almost expecting her to come with him but gave out a sigh of relief internally when she said, “Alright, Draco. I have to get this ghastly thing finished.” The blond failed to notice a certain bushy haired Gryffindor lock eyes with Pansy when she said that.
He nodded, “Very well, see you in the Common Room later, Pansy.” he replied, packing away his things and slyly tapping a note he’d written to Harry asking him to meet with him in the kitchens too. It read; ‘Harry, I need to talk to you, meet me in the kitchens.’ Once he tapped it with his wand, it vanished to where it was plucked out of the air by Harry, in the middle of Quidditch practice at the moment.
He read the note and cursed under his breath, sending a Patronus message back to the blond secretively as possible, ‘I’m sorry, love, I’m in the middle of practice… It’ll have to be tonight.’
When the blond received it, he sighed but sent another note back, ‘Very well, I shall seek you out later.’ He was surprised when another glittering ethereal blue stag came back to him with a message of, ‘I’ll make it up to you, I promise, honey.’ He smiled softly at that and wrote one last note, ‘You’d better, handsome. Now, go get better at Quidditch so I don’t stand a chance against you.’ he smiled a little in satisfaction at that. Truth be told, he didn’t enjoy playing Quidditch, but his father had once said that it would be shame if someone with Draco’s talent wasn’t playing for his house, so he’d bought him in with money and power. After all, what Lucius Malfoy said went, that’s what Draco had learned the hard way throughout his upper-crust Pureblood life of fifteen years.
Draco did end up going to the kitchens, getting something small; cheese, crackers and grapes with butterbeer from the House Elves of Hogwarts before heading back to his dormitory, which he shared with four other boys; Blaise Zabini, Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe and Theodore Nott. Only two boys in that room were actually his friends, Theo and Blaise had actually been good friends to him and although they both knew just exactly how influential Draco’s family was, they didn’t really care much, both being Pureblood aristocrats themselves.
An hour or so passed, Draco reading a book in his bed, long legs crossed over themselves in a rough lotus position when Blaise walked in, looking tired, “Hey Draco.” he greeted, flopping down on the bed in a most undignified manner, causing the blond to laugh softly, “Hello, you git. It was just getting good, now I’m not sure where I left off.”
The Italian smirked at him as he said, “Buying time until you can sneak away to your lover, dragon boy?” The icy blond glared at him, but it wasn’t fully meant and most certainly wasn’t his frostiest glare. He sighed and asked him, “Will you shut up about my love if I talk to you, Italy?” Blaise nodded, “That’s how this negotiation works, dragon boy.” he looked up at the blond Slytherin prince.
He sighed, “Fine, then I will. But in exactly two hours, I have to leave.” The dark skinned Slytherin boy looked at his pale-haired friend and nodded, “Fair enough, plenty of time to play chess with me.” He sighed, put down his book and smirked a little, “Well…the chance to beat you in chess is sorely tempting.”
All through their conversation, Draco hid his scared, anxious feelings in regard to the menacing letter from Lucius Malfoy threatening a hellish summer if he didn’t live as he was expected to, despite having been outed as gay by a mistake he’d made, sneaking around Hogsmeade with Harry, who he hadn’t let anyone see, but he’d clearly been flirting with whoever had been under the Invisibility Cloak and had been using male pronouns for them.
He allowed himself to push that aside until he could confide in his boyfriend later that night, when he planned to sneak into the Gryffindor dorms to snuggle with the brunet.