Drarry AI Oneshots

Thoughts Unspoken

Returning to Hogwarts for an eighth year had been a strange experience for everyone. The castle had been rebuilt, the scars of the war still fresh in the air, and many of the students who'd fought on both sides had come back to finish their education. Among them were Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.

The last thing either of them expected, though, was to be paired for a Defense Against the Dark Arts project. Professor McGonagall, in her wisdom (or cruelty, as Draco liked to think), had decided that pairing former rivals together would be a "learning experience."

It had been awkward, tense, and silent for the first few days. But then the spell happened.

It was a practice exercise, a simple hex meant to disarm your opponent without causing harm. Draco cast the spell first, but something went wrong-Draco felt a strange tingling in his mind, like something had clicked open that wasn't supposed to.

He blinked, disoriented for a moment, and turned to look at Potter, who was standing a few feet away with his wand lowered, frowning.

Before Draco could say anything, he heard it. Clear as day, though Potter's mouth hadn't moved.

Did that feel weird to him too? Maybe we should ask McGonagall-

Draco froze, his heart thudding in his chest. He stared at Potter, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Did I just hear him think that?

Potter was still frowning, clearly confused by the strange sensation of the spell. Then Draco heard it again:

Why is he looking at me like that? Is something wrong with my face?

Draco's eyes widened. "Potter."

Potter blinked and looked up. "What?"

Draco swallowed hard. "You didn't... you didn't say that out loud."

Potter raised an eyebrow. "Say what?"

"That thing about your face." Draco could feel his pulse racing. "You were thinking it."

Potter's frown deepened. "What are you talking about, Malfoy? I didn't say anything."

Draco felt a rush of panic. "No, but I heard you."

Potter stared at him, then shook his head. "That's impossible."

But Draco was certain of what he'd heard. Somehow, in the aftermath of that spell, he could hear Potter's thoughts.

Potter opened his mouth to speak again, but before he could, Draco heard him think: Is Malfoy messing with me? Why does he look so pale?

Draco took a step back, running a hand through his hair. "Merlin's beard, I really can hear you."

Potter's eyes widened, and for a moment, his thoughts were a jumble of confusion, panic, and disbelief.

This can't be real. There's no way he's actually hearing my thoughts. Can he?

Draco groaned, rubbing his temples. "Stop. Just... stop thinking."

Potter stared at him, horrified. "How am I supposed to stop thinking?"

Draco could feel a headache coming on. "I don't know, just... think quieter."

They spent the rest of the day in near silence, both of them avoiding each other's gaze. Draco tried to focus on blocking out Potter's thoughts, but it was no use. Every glance, every moment of quiet, Potter's mind kept running in the background like a radio Draco couldn't switch off.

This is a nightmare. Why did it have to be Malfoy? What if he hears... oh no, what if he hears me thinking about-

Draco winced. "Don't."

Potter looked panicked. "Don't what?"

"Don't think about whatever you were just going to think about."

Potter flushed, clearly embarrassed. He can't hear that, right? He can't know I've been-

"I can hear it," Draco snapped, feeling his own face heat up. He couldn't believe this was happening. Of all the people in Hogwarts to end up mind-linked with, it had to be Harry bloody Potter. And worse, Potter was clearly hiding something-something that made him panic every time his thoughts even began to drift toward Draco.

By the time they made it back to their shared dormitory (another one of McGonagall's brilliant ideas), Draco was beyond frustrated. He paced the room, trying to figure out what had caused the spell to go wrong.

Potter sat on the edge of his bed, looking unusually quiet. His thoughts were louder than ever though, a chaotic mess of anxiety and something else Draco couldn't quite place. What if he hears it? What if he knows?

Draco stopped pacing, narrowing his eyes at Potter. "What are you hiding?"

Potter's head snapped up. "What?"

Draco folded his arms, his heart pounding in his chest. "You've been panicking about me hearing something ever since this started. What is it?"

Potter's thoughts buzzed with panic: I can't tell him. He'll hate me. He'll laugh.

"Tell me what?" Draco demanded, stepping closer.

Potter stood up, running a hand through his messy hair. "It's nothing. Just... forget it."

Draco could hear Potter trying desperately to push down the thoughts, but they slipped through anyway. I've liked him for ages, but he'll never feel the same. He'll think I'm pathetic.

Draco froze. "You like me?"

Potter paled. "I-what?"

Draco's heart was racing now. "You just thought-you said you've liked me for ages."

Potter looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. "I didn't mean for you to hear that," he mumbled, his face turning bright red.

Draco stared at him, completely stunned. He'd expected annoyance, maybe even anger, but this? Potter actually liked him?

His mind reeled, trying to make sense of it. All the awkward silences, the weird looks, the moments Potter had fumbled his words around him-suddenly, it all made sense.

"You've liked me," Draco repeated, more to himself than to Potter. His voice was softer now, the realization sinking in. "All this time."

Potter didn't meet his eyes, his thoughts swirling with embarrassment and regret. He's going to laugh. He's going to hate me.

But Draco wasn't laughing. In fact, he felt something else entirely-a strange warmth spreading through his chest, something he hadn't let himself think about before now.

Because, if he was honest with himself, maybe he'd been feeling something too. Maybe that tension between them hadn't just been rivalry.

Draco took a slow breath, stepping closer to Potter. "You should have just said something."

Potter blinked, clearly startled. "What?"

Draco smirked, though it was softer than usual. "I wouldn't have laughed at you, Potter. You're not the only one who's been thinking about this."

Potter's eyes widened. He can't mean-

Draco leaned in, closing the distance between them until their faces were inches apart. "I do mean it," he murmured. "Maybe this whole mind-reading thing just made us realize what we've been avoiding."

Before Potter could overthink it-or worse, start thinking again-Draco kissed him.

It was soft at first, hesitant, but when Potter kissed him back, it was like something clicked into place. The strange buzzing in Draco's head faded, and all that was left was the feeling of Potter's lips against his, the warmth of his hands as they found their way to Draco's waist.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathless, Draco could still hear Potter's thoughts-this time full of disbelief and happiness.

He actually kissed me. This is real.

Draco chuckled softly. "Yeah, Potter. It's real."

And for the first time all day, hearing Potter's thoughts didn't feel like a curse at all.