Drarry One Shots

Boy-Who-Is-Short (Request)

Hm. It's actually been a few more days than usual than I go without updating...for this, at least. You guys got it good...this is the story I update the most. Mainly, because it's fun. And easy. Let's not forget easy...I've been watching Netflix all day...and I watched eight episodes straight of Fullmetal Alchemist...AND EDWARD ELRIC DID NOT MAKE ME CRY. NOPE. NOR DID AL.
So I started Fullmetal Alchemist...
So this is requested by Jade, YoursTruleyakaMe.

~~~

Harry's eighth year at Hogwarts wasn't going very well so far. It was two weeks into the semester, and if the obvious depletion of students wasn't enough to dampen his spirits, nor the fact that his snowy owl would never again be seen in the daily postal, or the fact that the slightest noise made ninety percent of the population of Hogwarts flinch, then the fact that he was being made fun of something he couldn't control was. 

It was the Dursleys fault!

So what if he was the shortest person going all the way to fifth year? Malnutrition! Not his fault! But, he was able to hold out, if only for a fortnight.

But it was when Snape joined in that he started to crack. It was during  potions class, and Harry was having trouble reaching something on a taller shelf in the ingredients cupboard, and he could almost reach it, but Snape just had to make a comment. 

"Mr. Malfoy, please assist Potter, as it seems he inherited his height from a distant family member. Can't have him backing up the potions progress," He had sneered, and Harry had been oh-so close to hexing the git, when a head of blond hair had blocked his vision. 

Malfoy had reached up silently, easily getting the ingredient Harry had been reaching for, handing it to Harry with a little smirk playing his features. 

Harry had grabbed it roughly, mumbling about malnutrition, and stupid abusive Dursleys, oblivious to the fact he was mumbling out loud, and therefor having not seem the dramatic widening of Malfoy's eyes. 

Harry received many jeers, notes in classes and the like, all mocking him, none seemingly caring enough of his role in The War to stop them, though they did seem to keep it in mind, as no one ever said it to him face-to-face. 

This caught his attention, for Malfoy had never joined in the jeers, leers and sneers. (Eeeeeeeerr. Roar.) In fact, Malfoy had hardly looked at him, besides a polite nod, and that smirk in potions. Not even when Harry had been deemed The-Boy-Who-Is-Short, embarrassingly and frustratingly enough.

Almost a month, two fortnights, (So I looked up the definition of fortnight. M'sorry. I learned a new word! I wanna use it! It means two weeks.) had passed before the first confrontation with Malfoy had happened. 

Malfoy had been walking, flanked by Crabb and Zambini, while Harry was coming up the opposite direction, flanked by Hermione and Ron. Really, it was Zambini who started it. Malfoy didn't even deserve it, really. 

"Potter," Zambini sneered. Harry eyed him wearily. He was in no mood for a fight, but it seemed Zambini was. 

All Harry gave was a civil nod, and Malfoy, who had seemed to be holding his breath, let it go, relaxed, apparently feeling better knowing that Harry wouldn't start anything. 

That didn't mean he wouldn't finish it. 

"What, are you to good for us, now? C'mon, Potty, you used to at least say something! Or do you not respond to 'Potter' anymore? Do you respond to Boy-Who-Is-Short only, now? Must admit, bit of a long title. How about just Malnourished-Potty? Why so tense, Potty? Got something to hide? You grew up with Muggles, didn't you? Did they do somethin-"

"Blaise, stop it!" Malfoy ordered, looking very nervous indeed. He shot Harry a glance, which bordered on apologetic. 

He was a bit too late, however. Harry was completely red in the face from anger by now, and as his magic cackled around him like lightning, a sudden breeze ruffling his hair, Zambini, and the other occupants of the hallway, seemed to remember just how powerful he was. 

In a flash, Harry had his wand out, pointed at Zambini, who looked slightly paralyzed in fear. A cruse on his lips, Harry was grabbed from behind, being pulled back. 

"That is quite enough, Mr. Potter. I assume you and Malfoy got into another of your fights. Detention, tonight, after dinner. Be at my office. Honestly, boys, you can't control yourself for a single month?" Headmistress Mcgonagall said shaking her head in disappointment. 

While Harry deflated in shame, Malfoy squawked. "Professor, I didn-" 

"That is quite enough, Mr. Malfo-"

"But, Professor, he really-"

"Mr. Potter, please do refrain from interrupting me. After dinner. Do be timely." She said, face drawn. She soon walked away, glancing between them suspiciously. 

"Zambini, you idiot!" Malfoy glared at the dark skinned boy, who shrugged. 

"Oh well." 

"Is this a joke to yo-"

"Malfoy." Harry spoke up, head down, feat shuffling. "I apologize. You shouldn't have been dragged into this. I tried to tell her otherwise, as you heard, but the woman's stubborn." He gave a small snort. "See you then, I suppose." And Harry rushed off, face oddly red for some reason before Malfoy could even get a word in, Hermione and Ron flanking him. 

Malfoy shook his head at the odd behavior, and returned to glaring at his housemate. 

When dinner rolled around, Harry spent a short amount of time at the table, before he got up and walked out of the Great Hall, deciding he wasn't hungry. He ignored the looks from Hermione. So he hadn't eaten today. He wasn't hungry. 

When dinner was officially over, Harry walked to the headmistresses office, dragging his feet slightly. When he arrived, he stopped short, realizing he didn't know the password. 

To his luck, however, it seemed he had beaten the headmistress there. She smiling thinly at him.

"Aquila's Chocolate Quills." She spoke clearly, giving an amused glance to Harry, who suddenly was over taken by a coughing fit. She made no comment, however. 

Harry followed his former teacher into her new office, and frowned when he looked around. This was the first time he had been in here after Mcgonagall had officially taken residence. Dumbledores countless odds and ends no longer littered every surface, and Frawkes was no longer there, nor was his perch. The room was now very orderly, with books, mainly on transfiguration littering most the bookshelves in alphabetical order, and all other places kept carefully clear. 

He didn't like it. It was too neat. He grew up with neat. He had enough of it by now, thank you very much. But, to his surprising comfort, the bowl of lemon drop candies still rested on the desk, and Harry didn't hesitate to take one. 

Moments after Harry popped the sweet into his mouth, the door opened again, and Malfoy walked in, shoulders oddly slumped. 

"Now, you'll be doing a simple, but admittedly tedious job of cleaning the trophy room. Hopefully it'll teach you some patients when it comes to dealing with other matters." 

They ducked their heads down in slight shame. 

It wasn't long before they where left alone in the shiny room. They quickly got to work, both surprisingly enough ignoring the other. 

That was, until, Harry couldn't reach the shelves. He sighed, hung his head, ate his pride, and turned around, walking a few steps forward.

"Malfoy." He said quietly, almost hoping the other wouldn't hear. But, alas, he did. He looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow and turning around fully after seeing Harry's defeat position.

"Yes, Potter?"

Harry mumbled something which Malfoy couldn't hear from almost all the way across the room. He took a few steps closer, face conveying confusion.

"What?"

"I can't bloody reach." Harry huffed, face bright red. 

Malfoy snorted, and rolled his eyes, which oddly enough seemed to be concerned. 

"Well then. Can't have me getting them all for you. Change of plans. You get the lower shelves, I'll get the higher ones. Deal?"

Harry nodded, refusing to make eye contact, face still bright red. Malfoy's face softened, before be walked over to Harry, surprising the shorter man by grabbing his chin and forcing Harry to look up and make eye contact. This only caused Harry's surprised expression to morph into a scowl, however, when he realized Malfoy was practically a foot taller. 

And Harry was not exaggerating, thank you very much!

"Not like you should be embarrassed for something some rotten Muggles did. Do keep your head up. You don't look nearly as good when that messy hair of yours is blocking those pretty eyes. There we go." Malfoy smirked, and walked off, acting as though he didn't just leave a stunned Harry Potter in the middle of the room. 

"What in the bloody hell was that?" Harry suddenly barked, turning around, walking straight into a warm chest. He looked up in alarm, stopping himself from scowling as he only reached Malfoy's chin. His face turned bright red, and he looked away, mutely stepping back. He repeated his question, though quieter this time, face flaming. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, I'm afraid." Malfoy said, a slight smirk still present on his face.

"You can't just do that!" Harry squeaked. 

"Again, I don't know what you're-"

"You can't just say all that stuff, Malfoy, especially if you don't mean it!"

"And who's to say I don't mean it?" Malfoy asked after a moment of silence. 

This left Harry floundering. 

"Because I do mean it, if you think I don't." Malfoy took a step closer, and Harry stubbornly held his ground. 

"You're...you're not supposed to! You hate me! Hate my guts!" 

"No I don't. Do you hate me?"

Again, more floundering. "W-well...I-I guess not, but that's not the poin-"

"Then what is the point?" 

"The point...look, how do you know...why do you even care? Why are you even trying to be civil, or whatever...this...is?" Harry asked, arms flailing.

"I..I don't know. But I do know that I care. I care about you."

~~~

I'll admit. I'm not sure how it turned into a detention one shot.  Nor do I have any idea how it ended. I planned nothing. I used the guidelines the requester gave me, but she didn't give me many and...this happened. I donno how. Is it shite? It's shite, isn't it?

I didn't notice till I wrote the whole thing, but I realized I refered to Draco as Malfoy the whole time, which isn't like me, as you know, as I usually naturally refer to him as Draco, unless I'm writing with Harry as the point of focus, and vise versa. Weird. But, yes, I was lazy and didn't want to go back and change it, so...yeah. I wonder what changed...