Harry potter One-shots

Mandatory Bonding time (Drarry)

Professor McGonagall's directive was met with mutual disdain from both Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. They stood in her office, arms crossed and expressions sour, as she explained the purpose of their mandatory bonding session. McGonagall's stern demeanor brooked no argument, leaving them with no choice but to begrudgingly accept their fate.

"You two," she began, her voice clipped and authoritative, "have disrupted the peace of this school for far too long. This session is an opportunity for you to learn to work together and set aside your differences."

Harry rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, "Like that's ever going to happen."

Draco, beside him, scoffed. "Absolutely preposterous. I have better things to do than waste my time with Potter."

McGonagall fixed them both with a steely glare. "Enough! You will report to the Room of Requirement this evening. Consider this a chance to improve your behavior."

And so, as dusk settled over Hogwarts, Harry and Draco found themselves standing awkwardly in front of the Room of Requirement, both silently seething at the unfairness of their predicament. With a resigned sigh, Harry pushed open the door, revealing a small, dimly lit room filled with an assortment of enchanted objects.

"This is ridiculous," Draco muttered, his voice dripping with disdain as he stepped inside.

Harry shrugged, his own frustration palpable. "Tell me about it."

An awkward silence stretched between them as they stood on opposite sides of the room, eyeing each other warily. The enchanted objects hummed softly, waiting for their reluctant participants to begin.

After what felt like an eternity of uncomfortable silence, a floating orb in the center of the room emitted a soft chime, startling both boys out of their brooding thoughts. A disembodied voice echoed around them, "Welcome, Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy. Please engage in the first activity: discussing your least favorite subjects at Hogwarts."

Draco smirked, a hint of amusement tugging at his lips. "Well, that's an easy one. Divination."

Harry chuckled despite himself, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, Professor Trelawney's predictions were... less than accurate."

As they exchanged reluctant anecdotes about their shared disdain for the subject, the tension between them began to ease slightly. The conversation flowed more naturally, veering into lighter topics such as Quidditch strategies and the best places to sneak off to in Hogsmeade.

It was during a particularly animated discussion about the merits of Firebolt versus Nimbus that disaster struck—or rather, Draco struck the floor. He had been pacing in frustration, gesturing emphatically with his hands, when he tripped over an errant rug and landed in a graceless heap on the ground.

Harry couldn't help it; he burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the room as Draco glared up at him from the floor, his pride wounded but his eyes twinkling with reluctant amusement.

"Well, well, Potter," Draco drawled, his voice laced with mock indignation, "aren't you going to help me up?"

Harry stepped forward, offering Draco a hand with a smirk. "Oh, I don't know. You seemed quite comfortable down there."

Draco accepted his hand, allowing Harry to pull him to his feet with a scoff. "Always the hero, aren't you?"

Harry chuckled, their banter taking on a more playful tone as they fell into an easy rhythm of teasing and jesting. It was a side of Draco that Harry had rarely seen—the sharp wit and dry humor that lurked beneath his icy exterior. And for the first time, Harry found himself genuinely enjoying Draco's company.

As they continued to joke and laugh, Harry noticed a shift in their dynamic—a subtle softening of their defenses, a growing camaraderie born from shared laughter and unexpected camaraderie. And amidst their banter, amidst the teasing and playful jabs, Harry realized with a jolt of surprise that he was actually having fun.

Their conversation eventually turned to more personal topics, their voices lowering as they shared stories of their childhoods and their hopes for the future. Draco's expression softened as he spoke of his family, revealing vulnerabilities that Harry had never imagined beneath the mask of privilege and arrogance.

And then, as they sat side by side on a worn-out sofa, bathed in the warm glow of enchanted candles, Harry found himself studying Draco with newfound curiosity. The harsh lines of rivalry seemed to blur in the gentle light, replaced by something unexpectedly human—a vulnerability that mirrored his own.

Draco caught Harry's gaze, his grey eyes flickering with a mix of defiance and curiosity. "What?" he challenged, his voice softer than usual.

Harry hesitated for a moment, the weight of unspoken words heavy on his tongue. But instead of pulling away, he found himself leaning closer, his breath mingling with Draco's as he whispered, "Maybe this bonding thing isn't so bad after all."

Draco blinked in surprise, his lips quirking into a half-smile. "You're joking, right?"

Harry shook his head, his own smile mirroring Draco's. "No, I'm not. It's... nice."

Draco chuckled softly, a genuine warmth lighting up his features. "Well, I suppose even enemies can find common ground."

Harry nodded, his heart lighter than it had been in ages. "Yeah, who would've thought?"