Drarry Oneshots 👍

Hostage

Harry Potter paced in the living room area of Grimauld Place, his footsteps tracing the bumps and cracks of the cobblestone floor. He had been waiting for over two days for Kreacher to show up with the Death Eater he was supposed to have captured.

Draco Malfoy.

Harry wanted answers on Voldermort's doings, and he wanted them now.

He would stand just outside the cobweb dusted door of the house, advancing if he had heard even the slightest of movement from outside. Today was no different, and Harry had to resist taking a small peak out of the window that resided on the window ground floor - just to check.

Hermione came up to him on the morning of the second day, worry lines forming on her forehead. "You're still out here?" Harry nodded, appearing anxious. "Yes, well, someone had to keep guard." Hermione shook her head, yawning. "Maybe Harry. If it was this was about 'keeping guard' in the first place."

Harry turned to her, vaguely listening now. "Uh, yeah, whatever you say 'mione." Hermione gave a long and exaggerated sigh, looking affronted. "Were you even listening to me, Harry? I said—" He waved her away, squinting. "Can you be quiet for a moment? I think I just heard something."

Hermione tensed, annoyed, but fell silent, coming to rest by Harry's side. She pressed her ear against the window, and waited. There could be nothing heard but cold gusts of wind blowing throughout the muggle street outside, and the occasional rustle from a crow on a barren tree.

Hermione scoffed, backing away from the window. "There's nothing there, Harry. I think you should get some sleep." Harry pulled a face, watching as a cloaked man glided across the street, never coming out of view with Grimauld Place. "I could've sworn I heard- or at least saw something out there."

He huffed, crossing his arms. "You're wrong." Hermione rolled her eyes, and turned her back. "Whatever you say, Harry. Just make sure you're still awake for breakfast." Harry averted his attention back towards the window, his hand falling away from the glass.

"What, mouldy bread again?" Hermione climbed up the stairs, rubbing her eyes. "Just be there!" Harry groaned, fiddling with his fingers. He was starting to think that Kreacher wouldn't show up at all, and the first hints discouragement crept into his head.

Perhaps Kreacher really had lied, and wasn't capable of being trusted. Malfoy had been the pinnacle of his praise in the past, and Harry wouldn't be surprised if he purposefully chose not to follow direct orders.

Tapping his fingertips on the window ledge,and moving away from the scene before him, Harry made towards the kitchen, counting off all the transfiguration spells he knew. To his surprise though, Ron was sat at the table, tearing into a breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast. Harry blinked at him.

"What- how...?" Ron looked up at him, his face still stuffed with food. "Mph— " he swallowed, "I transfigured all the food!" Harry found himself crossing his arms again, shaking his head in complete disbelief. "I doubt it, Ron. You couldn't even get that levitating spell right in first year, how would you be able manage this?"

Ron scowled, setting his fork down. "How does that mean I wouldn't be able to pull this off? And stop digging up the past!" Harry put his hands up in mock surrender, assuming a look of pure innocence. "Hey, I'm just saying mate, it doesn't seem likely that you've suddenly mastered transfiguration. I thought Hermione did all this. Also, you haven't changed that much since first year."

Ron made a sound of indignation, pushing his plate away. "Wow, thanks Harry! You've just ruined my day!" He got up, heading for the stairs, and Harry shrugged, taking his seat, and his breakfast. Hermione walked into the kitchen again, newspaper in hand. Harry glanced at her, eyeing the paper with an obvious sense of dread.