Drarry AI Oneshots

The Wrong Notebook (Part 2)

Draco's confession hung in the air between them like a storm waiting to break. For the first time since they had returned to Hogwarts for their eighth year, Harry wasn't seeing Draco as his former rival, his enemy, or the boy who had tormented him for years. He was seeing Draco-really seeing him-as someone who had been hiding behind masks for just as long as Harry had been.

And Draco... Draco had been noticing him. Watching him. Sketching him.

Harry swallowed, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared at Draco, who now seemed more vulnerable than Harry had ever thought possible.

"You've been noticing me?" Harry asked, his voice quiet but steady.

Draco's eyes flickered with something like panic, and he quickly averted his gaze, focusing on his hands, which were clenched tightly in his lap. "Look, Potter, if you're going to make a big deal out of this-"

"I'm not," Harry interrupted, his own voice trembling slightly with the weight of what he was starting to understand. "I just... didn't know."

Draco let out a sharp breath, his hands relaxing slightly, though he still looked tense. "Well, now you do. So can we drop it?"

But Harry didn't want to drop it. He couldn't. Not after what he had seen in Draco's notebook, not after hearing Draco admit to watching him for years.

"I don't get it," Harry said, leaning forward, his voice softer now. "Why didn't you say anything? All this time, you've been... sketching me, thinking about me, and you never said a word."

Draco's jaw tightened, and for a long moment, he didn't speak. When he finally did, his voice was quieter than Harry had ever heard it. "Because I didn't think it mattered."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

Draco's eyes met his again, and there was something raw and honest in his gaze that made Harry's chest tighten. "I thought... I thought you'd hate me. That you'd think I was pathetic for even... feeling anything." Draco paused, his voice faltering, and he shook his head, letting out a bitter laugh. "After everything that's happened between us, I figured you wouldn't care. You wouldn't want to know."

Harry blinked, stunned by how wrong Draco was. He had never expected this-never expected Draco to feel anything for him beyond the rivalry and hatred that had defined so many of their years at school. But now, seeing Draco's vulnerability laid bare, something inside Harry shifted.

"Draco," Harry said softly, his heart pounding. "You're wrong."

Draco's brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. "What?"

"You're wrong," Harry repeated, his voice steady now. "I don't think it's pathetic. And I don't hate you."

Draco stared at him, his expression frozen in shock. For a moment, neither of them moved, the silence between them filled with the unspoken weight of years of tension and misunderstanding. Harry's mind was racing, trying to make sense of the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He had never considered this before-never allowed himself to think of Draco as anything other than his rival. But now... now everything felt different.

Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and when he spoke again, his voice was quieter, more tentative. "Do you still... notice me? Like that?"

Draco's face flushed, and he looked away, clearly struggling to maintain his composure. "What do you think?" he muttered, his voice tight.

Harry's heart pounded in his chest as the realization fully sank in. Draco wasn't just embarrassed by his feelings-he had been hiding them, maybe even from himself, for so long that he didn't know what to do with them anymore.

"I don't mind," Harry said quietly, his voice steady but soft. "That you've been noticing me."

Draco's head snapped up, his eyes wide with surprise. "What?"

Harry swallowed, forcing himself to be brave, to push past the awkwardness. "I said, I don't mind. I think... I think maybe I've been noticing you too."

Draco's eyes searched Harry's face, disbelief flickering in his gaze. "You're not... you're not serious."

Harry nodded slowly, his throat tight. "I think I am."

For a long moment, Draco just stared at him, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a small, incredulous smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You've been noticing me?"

Harry's heart raced, but he nodded again, a small smile of his own forming. "Yeah. I didn't really understand it before, but... I think I've been paying attention to you more than I realized."

Draco blinked, clearly trying to process what Harry was saying. His face softened, the tension in his posture easing just slightly. "So... what does that mean?"

Harry took a deep breath, his pulse pounding in his ears. He hadn't expected to be here, sitting next to Draco Malfoy, admitting that he might actually feel something for him. But now that he was, it didn't feel as terrifying as he thought it would.

"I don't know," Harry admitted honestly. "But maybe... we could figure it out?"

Draco stared at him for a long moment, his eyes flickering with uncertainty, hope, and something else-something warmer, something Harry hadn't seen in Draco's gaze before. Finally, Draco nodded, his voice quiet. "Yeah. Maybe we could."

Harry's heart pounded in his chest, a strange mix of relief and excitement flooding through him. For the first time in years, it felt like the tension between them wasn't about rivalry or anger-it was about something else, something new and fragile, but real.

They sat there in silence for a moment, the weight of their confessions settling between them. Harry wasn't sure what would happen next, but he knew one thing for certain: whatever it was, they were in it together.

Draco cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "So... does this mean you're okay with me... sketching you?"

Harry chuckled, his shoulders relaxing as some of the tension eased. "I guess it depends on how you make me look."

Draco smirked, the familiar glint of his teasing nature returning to his eyes. "Well, Potter, I can't help it if you're an easy subject."

Harry rolled his eyes but couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips. "Maybe I'll return the favor one day. You know, draw you."

Draco raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Oh, really? I didn't know you had artistic tendencies."

Harry shrugged, leaning back in his chair, feeling more comfortable than he had in days. "I've got hidden talents, Malfoy. You'll just have to wait and see."

Draco's smirk widened, but there was a softness in his eyes now, something more genuine. "I'll hold you to that, Potter."

And as they sat there, the quiet between them no longer filled with tension but something more hopeful, Harry realized that maybe this was just the beginning of something he hadn't expected-but something he was ready to explore.

Together.

The End... or perhaps, just the beginning.