Drarry AI Oneshots

Stitched Together

If anyone had told Harry Potter that, after the war, he would develop a passion for fashion design, he would've laughed in their face. But after everything, once the dust had settled and his life became somewhat quieter, Harry found himself searching for something different-something that wasn't about saving the world or living up to everyone's expectations.

It all started with a scarf. Just a simple project. Hermione had suggested Harry take up a hobby to deal with the restless energy that had built up inside him after the war. Knitting, she'd said, could be relaxing. So Harry, wanting to humor his friend, picked up some yarn and knitting needles, and found that she had been right. There was something calming about working with his hands, watching something tangible take shape.

But the scarf was only the beginning.

Before long, Harry had moved on to more complicated projects-cloaks, shirts, even robes. He found himself fascinated by the way fabric moved, how stitches could change the entire look of a garment, how clothes could be more than just something you wore-they could tell a story, show who you were. He poured himself into it, teaching himself to sew, to design, to create.

At first, it was just for fun. But then, one evening, sitting in front of his sewing machine, Harry found himself thinking of Draco Malfoy.

Draco had been different since the war-quieter, more reserved, but still sharp and biting in that way only Draco could be. They hadn't been friends, not really, but there was a strange sort of understanding between them now, a fragile truce that had slowly turned into something like companionship during their eighth year at Hogwarts.

And if Harry was being honest with himself, Draco fascinated him. The way he carried himself, his sharp wit, his piercing gaze. Draco had always been a little too polished, a little too perfect in the way he dressed, the way he spoke. Harry found himself wondering what it would be like to create something for him. Something that would make Draco feel... seen.

That's when the idea took root.

Harry decided to design something for Draco. It was bold-maybe even reckless-but Harry had always been a bit of both. He would make something that was more than just a gift. It would be a gesture, a way to show Draco that he had been paying attention, that he understood him in a way no one else did.

The process took longer than Harry expected. He wanted it to be perfect. He spent hours poring over sketches, adjusting designs, carefully selecting the fabric. He knew that Draco had a certain style-elegant, sleek, almost regal-and Harry wanted to respect that while also adding something of his own.

Eventually, Harry settled on a robe-a deep, stormy grey with silver accents, tailored to fit Draco's slim frame but with a softness to the design that would feel effortless. It wasn't flashy, but it was timeless. Something Draco could wear and feel completely himself in.

By the time the robe was finished, Harry was both excited and terrified. He had never done anything like this for anyone before, let alone someone like Draco Malfoy. But he'd come this far, and now there was no turning back.

It was a chilly evening when Harry finally gathered the courage to give Draco the robe. They were sitting in the Slytherin common room-an unlikely place for Harry to find himself, but it had become a semi-regular occurrence since they had started working together on their eighth-year studies. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting warm light over the green and silver décor.

Draco was seated on the sofa, flipping through a book, his brow furrowed in concentration. Harry watched him for a moment, trying to steady his nerves, before clearing his throat.

"Malfoy," Harry began, his voice just a little shaky, "I've got something for you."

Draco looked up, raising a curious eyebrow. "For me? What is it?"