Drarry AI Oneshots

Through His Eyes

It started the morning after Harry's 23rd birthday. He woke up to something unusual—not a hangover, but a strange, shimmering sensation hovering around people. At first, he thought he was still dreaming, until he saw Ginny walk into the room, trailing a faint glow of contentment and warmth.

It was like he could see emotions, each one shimmering in a distinct color—happiness flickering gold, anxiety a pale blue, irritation burning red.

At first, it was fun. He could tell when Ron was genuinely interested in a chess match or when Hermione was pretending not to be annoyed by his late-night visits. But soon, the novelty wore off. Crowded places became overwhelming, emotions blurring together in a swirling mess.

Then there was Draco Malfoy.

Harry had been working with Draco for the past six months at the Auror office, where the former Slytherin had somehow managed to worm his way into Harry's everyday life. They were always partnered for missions, always assigned the same paperwork, always bickering—and if Harry were being honest, always exchanging glances that lingered just a little too long.

But Draco was a puzzle Harry couldn't figure out. He was sharp-tongued and aloof, but lately there had been... something else. Something Harry couldn't put his finger on—until now.

The first time Harry saw Draco's emotions, they hit him like a bludger to the chest.

It was during a meeting, with Robards droning on about mission protocols while Draco sat across the table, doodling idly in the margins of his notes. Harry glanced over out of boredom, and that's when he saw it: a swirling mix of emotions, glowing bright and unmistakable.

At first, it was confusing—a soft, misty pink of affection mixed with an electric shimmer of longing. But then it deepened, swirling into a warm, molten gold that curled lazily like smoke. And underneath it all was a darker, richer undertone—a pulse of something hot and hungry, like embers waiting to ignite.

Harry's mouth went dry.

Was that—? No. It couldn't be.

He stared, barely hearing Robards anymore, as the emotions around Draco pulsed and shifted. The pink glimmer of fondness sharpened into something deeper—something decidedly romantic. And the dark, simmering edge of desire burned hotter, like Draco's very presence hummed with it.

Harry felt his heart stutter in his chest. He looked away quickly, heat creeping up his neck.

For the rest of the day, Harry couldn't stop thinking about it. Every time he glanced at Draco, the emotions were still there—soft and warm, edged with heat and a touch of frustration, as if Draco was holding himself back.

It was intoxicating and overwhelming, and Harry had no idea how to handle it.

The next day, Harry tried to avoid Draco entirely, but fate wasn't on his side. Halfway through the morning, Robards assigned them a surveillance mission together, which meant hours stuck in a cramped observation room, just the two of them.

Great.

Draco, of course, noticed Harry's strange behavior immediately.

"You've been acting weird," Draco said, leaning casually against the wall. His silvery-grey eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing," Harry mumbled, trying not to look directly at Draco's swirling emotions. It was like staring at a fire—impossible to look away from for too long.

Draco smirked, clearly unconvinced. "You're a terrible liar, Potter."

Harry clenched his jaw, shifting uncomfortably. He could feel Draco's emotions buzzing in the air between them—curiosity edged with amusement, layered over that same pulse of desire that made Harry's skin tingle.

"I just..." Harry hesitated, unsure how to explain. Finally, he blurted out, "I can see emotions."

Draco blinked. "What?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Since my birthday, I've been able to, well, see people's emotions. It's like... they glow or something."

Draco tilted his head, processing this. "And what does that have to do with you avoiding me?"

Harry swallowed, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. "Because... because your emotions are different than I expected."

Draco's expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. "Different how?"

Harry hesitated again, then sighed in defeat. "You... you feel things for me. Romantic things. And, uh... other things."

For a moment, Draco just stared at him. Then, to Harry's complete surprise, Draco let out a soft, breathless laugh.

"Well," Draco said, his voice low and amused, "I suppose the cat's out of the bag, then."

Harry's heart was pounding in his chest. "So... you do?"

Draco's smirk softened into something more genuine, something almost vulnerable. "Yes, Potter. I have for a while."

The emotions surrounding Draco flared, the pink of affection blending seamlessly with the darker, smoldering heat. And for the first time, Harry let himself lean into it—let himself feel the warmth curling around him, wrapping him in something that felt dangerously like hope.

"I—" Harry began, his throat dry. "I think I feel the same."

Draco raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "You think?"

Harry laughed, the tension breaking like a wave crashing against the shore. "Okay, I know. I feel the same."

Draco's smirk returned, but this time it was softer, more intimate. "Took you long enough."

Harry rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help the grin spreading across his face. The emotions around Draco glowed brighter, swirling together in a beautiful, chaotic mess.

And for the first time, Harry didn't want to look away.