Drarry One Shots

Malfoy's Bad Not-So-Bad Sick Day

Harry sat at his desk in his shared office at the Ministry. He was ticked off, and you could see it in his stance, face, and the rapid, annoyed breathing pattern. Malfoy, his partner, was late. This was odd, as the blond was hardly ever late. And they had extra paper work today! Sure, he and Malfoy were on decent terms, and could have a conversation with out a insult every once in a while, but, still, Malfoy had no right to skip out on work!

The blond was edging on a hour late when the door to the office was roughly slammed open, making Harry jump. Malfoy walked, or, more like stomped, into their shared office, before moodily slumping in his chair.

Harry stared. Usually, Malfoy was all, work, and business business! Not today, though.

His clothes where rumpled, as though he had put them on in a rush. There where dark circles under his eyes and his nose was bright red. His cheeks where flushed and he sniffed every other second. His hair was a mess; obviously he hadn't combed and styled it for a hour like Harry suspected he did.

"Malfoy, you're sick." Harry decided pointing out the obvious would be the best, easiest, tactic here. This never happened. Harry had no idea how to go about it. Though, he found Malfoy sniffing, reaching for a tissue and wiping his nose as regally as one could managed while doing such a action, oddly endearing.

Get it together Potter! He scolded himself mentally. He did not find Malfoy, or anything Malfoy did, endearing, of all things. No. Nope. Harry must be a bit touched in the head.

"I am perfectly fine Pott-achoo!" Sneeze, wipe. Sniff, sniff. Harry sighed. It was almost as though Malfoy was holding up a bloody sign reading Pity Me! Pity Me!

Honestly, Malfoy was begging for attention, in Harry's head. Harry scowled at himself, even as he felt his concern growing for his partner. Bollocks. Hermione always told me my hero complex would bite me in the arse. Harry sighed, before walking over, placing a hand on the blonds forehead.

Harry knew something had to be very wrong when Malfoy relaxed into his touch. Harry then pulled his hand away, and he could have sworn he had heard Malfoy whine.

"Malfoy, you're burning up. C'mon, you're in no working condition. Let's get you home." Harry sighed in acceptance.

Something must have been frightfully wrong with Malfoy. He hadn't even protested!

With another sigh of acceptance, Harry walked out of the office, half carrying Malfoy and half dragging the blond.

Soon, the two where at the floo areas, and stepping in, he hoped he wouldn't get Malfoy barf on him. When they entered the comfy looking apartment, Harry carefully guided Malfoy to his bed.

Harry sat on the edge of Malfoys bed. Malfoy was in his bed, tucked under the covers. A bowl was next to the bed, and a glass of water was on the bedside table, in case he ended up needing the bowl.

"Why're you doing this, Potter?" Malfoy asked, voice altered because of a sore throat and stuffy nose.

"Because suffering through a flu alone is horrible. I know from experience." Harry gave a small shrug and a innocent smile.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes, but he turned green, and soon leaned over the side of the bed. Harry was not affected by the sounds, or the smell. He was far to used to it. Dudley constantly got sick from all the candy he ate, and just other things in general, and Harry was usually the one to play doctor, though sometimes Dudley would demand his mother do something instead in Harry.

"How can you be so blood calm? Doesn't it disgust you?" Malfoy asked, setting the cup of water down and blowing his nose with a tissue.

"I'm used to taking care of people."

"Shouldn't it be the other way 'round?"

"Yeah, it should. Too late now, though. S'fine, really. I was never coddled. Too easy for me." Harry joked, though the was truth in his words. Malfoy seemed to realize it.

"You should really do something about that hero complex. Stop being so damn selfless. What if I get you sick?"

"Then you get me sick." Harry shrugged. Malfoy scowled. Clearly, that wasn't the answer he had been looking for. Harry smirked.

"Then who'll take care of you as you're green in your bed, unable to go to the bathroom to piss by yourself?"

"Who knows? Maybe a certain Slytherin will return the favor." The right side of Harry's mouth lifted up in a joking smile, but Malfoy frowned. He opened his mouth to say something, but quickly clamped it shut, turning green.

He quickly rolled over to the other side of the bed. Once he was done, and had set the glass of water down, back on the bedside table, he sneezed into a hastily grabbed tissue.

"Damn flu." Malfoy cursed.

"Language, Malfoy."

"Draco."

"Er...excuse me?"

"Call me Draco."

"Sure, if you call me Harry."

"Deal."

How Harry had managed to have this long of a decent conversation with Malfo-er, Draco, let alone get on first-name basis, was lost to Harry.

"Achoo!" With a worried look, Harry felt Draco's forehead. The worry lines between his eyes increased.

"You're burning up."

"And?"

"You need a bath."

"Excuse me, Potter? Please elaborate. And if you think you'll be helping me undress, let alone joining me at any point I'll-"

"Mal-er, Draco, you pervert! Of course I'm not going to-gah! No, you need to take a ice bath to bring the fever down."

"Ice? What the bloody hell is the ice for?" Malfoy cried out in alarm.

"To make it cold, of course."

"I'm not bathing with ice in my bath, Pot-Harry! I'll freeze my balls off!"

"You'll live."

"What about a simple cooling charm?"

"I guess I'm just Muggle like that." Harry smirked as Malfoy cried out in exasperation.

"You're impossible!"

"Thank you."

"That was not a complement." Malfoy glared, miffed.

"Really? I couldn't tell. I'm going to start the bath now." Harry declared, getting up and heading to the bathroom.

"Potter!" Ignoring the summoning, Harry turned the water on, and set it at cold before plugging the drain. When it was starting to fill, Harry conjured a bit of ice.

Harry walked back out to see Draco pouting, arms crossed over his chest, clearly miffed.

"Go and strip before I'm forced to do it for you." Gaping at Harry, Draco started to scramble, then stilled, closing his eyes, rethinking the quick motion, and then carefully but quickly scampered to the bathroom.