Drarry One-Shots - A Collection

Seventeen

Silence

Day One

"What?" He asked, eyes wide and bulging as he listened to his headmistress.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter but," She paused as though gauging if she would worsen his reaction, "Eighth years cannot play quidditch. It simply wouldn't give other possible talents a chance."

Harry huffed as he stood up from his chair, leaving the half bitten biscuit in the bin by her desk. Even the already stale biscuits soured in his mouth. He felt his head pounding as he closed his eyes for a brief second to relieve the pain. His hand attached itself to the handle of the door and he was out of her office in seconds.

During his walk around the school corridors, he realized that Mcgonagall was right. If he, an eighth year with much more experience than the rest of their team, were to play, nobody would be able to showcase their potential. Especially not now after the war, when he was still getting stopped every two seconds.

He hated the notoriety that came with being himself—well, at least part of himself. He saved the true, icky, mushy, disgusting version of himself for only his family and friends but even then, sometimes they took his reactions and displeasures as "dramatic".

He wasn't going to deny that he was but he knew— he knew that there was reason to his madness and every time he ended up here, in these thoughts, he wished with all of his heart that his godfather were here.

Letting his feet take him where they wanted to, he ended up in front of the eighth year portrait. As he entered, he realized that the fire was on and a slow smile spread across his face as he remembered the fire-calls with his friend and father figure.

It wasn't until he heard a loud sneeze that he realized somebody else was in the room. Off in the corner, Draco Malfoy's head poked out of a bundle of blankets, his nose and cheeks tinged pink from the cold of the castle. Harry, slightly drained and much too preoccupied with his thoughts simply acknowledged him with eye contact before sitting down on the couch.

Day Two

The second time that he felt himself shutting down, emotions much too intense and unparalleled to be safe, he found himself heading toward the fireplace again. It was simply the comfort, he reasoned, of having his godfather close to him.

He let himself fall onto the couch as he listened to the crackling fire. He felt a slight weight in the couch and he quickly sat up, fearing the worst. Fortunately, it just seemed to be a very sleepy Malfoy, eyes half closed and a blanket wrapped around himself. It seemed that he had dragged his bundled self from his dorm all the way to the common room.

Harry wondered how the Slytherin always seemed to be cold.

****

"Harry!" Came the happy call of his best mate. "Where've you been? We missed you during herbology."

The raven-haired boy groaned. "I fell asleep late and then overslept as a result."

"Yeah? Oh, I hope you feel better. In that case, I'll let 'Mione know so she can give you the notes."

"Thanks, mate."

"Of course." Ron smiled brightly as he draped an arm over Harry's shoulder, "How do you feel about a quidditch game, just us?"

Off in the corner, Malfoy's ears perked up at Harry's mention of sleeping late. So he hadn't imagined what happened? He could only hear the fading voice of Harry, "....Ah, well,....okay..." as he was left with his own thoughts.

Day Five

Two days had passed since their last encounter, neither boy acknowledgeing it or each other during the week. Today, Draco found himself unable to sleep as he tossed and turned in his bed. The nightmares wouldn't leave, the claws of his past actions were digging deeper than before. He sighed as he got out of bed, not caring about presentability and bundling himself into his jumper.

Once he had made it down the stairs, he realized there were green eyes looking curiously at him. "No blanket tonight, Malfoy?"

Draco simply nodded in response, unsure of what to say and how to react. Harry had never spoken to him in that voice before— without contempt or anger, just..speaking. The other sighed in frustration once he realized that the blonde would not speak.

They spent their night in relative silence.

Day Six

Harry had been dreading the whole day, ever since he woke up until the very moment that was now. He was currently partnered up with Draco Malfoy, as he was the one who excelled at potions but unfortunately the git seemed to be unable to speak. He simply nodded or shook his head in answer every time Harry spoke.

By the fifth time this happened, Harry sighed exaggeratedly. "Malfoy, can you please speak to me? I hate playing this guessing game."

This resulted in the Slytherin writing things down on parchment. Even if it wasn't verbal, it was better than the head shaking, Harry surmised.