Drarry AI Oneshots

A Date to the Yule Ball

It had been a particularly cold November at Hogwarts, the chill seeping into the castle walls and turning the corridors into icy wind tunnels. As students bundled up in their house scarves and woolen robes, whispers of an upcoming event began to fill the air. Professor McGonagall had announced that, to lift spirits after a grueling first term back, there would be a Yule Ball for the eighth-year students-a chance to celebrate the winter season and the fact that they had all, somehow, survived.

For Harry Potter, however, the idea of the Yule Ball wasn't nearly as exciting as it seemed to be for everyone else. His last experience at a Yule Ball had been awkward, to say the least, and now, as his housemates chatted eagerly about potential dates and dress robes, Harry found himself in an all-too-familiar situation: he had no idea how to ask the person he wanted to go with.

That person, of course, was Draco Malfoy.

It was ridiculous. Absolutely absurd. Harry had spent the past few months trying to convince himself that his feelings for Malfoy were just the result of lingering post-war tension or the fact that they'd been forced to share more space than ever in their eighth year. But the truth was undeniable-he liked Draco. He liked the way Draco had changed over the past year, the way he'd become quieter, more introspective, and, if Harry was honest, a little too attractive for his own good.

The problem was, Harry had no idea how to ask him to the ball.

Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room, staring blankly at the fire as Ron and Hermione talked about their plans for the Yule Ball. They were, of course, going together, and had already started discussing what they'd wear and how they'd spend the night.

"So, Harry," Hermione said, turning to him with a knowing look, "anyone you're thinking of asking?"

Harry blinked, startled out of his thoughts. "What?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "The ball, Harry. You haven't said anything about who you're asking."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, mate. Don't tell me you're going to pull another 'wait until the last minute and panic' move like last time."

Harry flushed, remembering how disastrous his first Yule Ball experience had been. "No, I-I just haven't really thought about it yet."

Hermione gave him a skeptical look. "You've been staring at the fire for the past twenty minutes, looking like you're plotting something. You've obviously thought about it."

Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, fine. I've thought about it."

Ron grinned. "So? Who is it?"

Harry hesitated. He hadn't told anyone about his crush on Draco-not even Ron and Hermione. He wasn't sure how they'd react, or how to explain it in a way that made sense. But before he could stop himself, the words slipped out.

"It's Malfoy."

Both Ron and Hermione froze, their eyes widening in surprise.

"Malfoy?" Ron repeated, his voice a mixture of disbelief and confusion. "You want to ask Malfoy to the ball?"

Harry grimaced. "Yeah."

Hermione, always quick to recover, smiled softly. "Well, I suppose that makes sense."

Ron gaped at her. "It does?"

Hermione nodded. "They've been getting along a lot better this year. Haven't you noticed? And Draco has changed. He's not the same person he was during the war."

Ron scratched his head, still looking bewildered. "I guess... I mean, you did save his life, Harry, but asking him to the ball? What if he-well, what if he says no?"