Drarry AI Oneshots

Library Confession

The Hogwarts library had become an unexpected refuge for Harry during his eighth year. After the war, the castle felt different-quieter, more solemn-and the library, with its towering shelves and comforting stillness, was one of the few places where Harry felt like he could breathe.

He hadn't expected Draco Malfoy to feel the same.

It had started slowly. At the beginning of the year, Harry had noticed Draco slipping into the library at the same time every afternoon, sitting at the same table Harry had claimed as his own. At first, Harry thought it was a coincidence, but as the weeks passed, they had silently fallen into a routine. Draco would sit across from him, neither of them speaking, both quietly working on their assignments in comfortable silence.

Harry had gotten used to it-the quiet companionship, the occasional glance over the top of a book, the soft sounds of pages turning. It had become their thing, even though they never talked about it.

But today, Harry was struggling to keep his eyes open. After a long night of restless sleep, his head was swimming with exhaustion, and no matter how hard he tried to focus on the essay in front of him, his eyelids kept growing heavier and heavier.

Draco was already sitting across from him, engrossed in a book on Potions theory, as usual. Harry glanced at him, watching the way Draco's brow furrowed in concentration, the way his silver-blond hair fell just slightly into his eyes. It had become a familiar sight, one that Harry found oddly comforting.

He yawned, resting his head on his arms, telling himself he would just close his eyes for a moment. Just a moment.

Harry wasn't sure how long he had been asleep, but when he stirred, still groggy, he heard a voice.

Draco's voice.

At first, it was soft, just a low murmur that barely registered in Harry's tired mind. But then, as the words became clearer, Harry froze, keeping his eyes closed as he realized what Draco was saying.

"I don't know why I keep doing this," Draco muttered quietly, almost to himself. His voice was low, laced with frustration, but there was a softness to it that Harry had never heard before. "Sitting here every day, pretending like it doesn't matter. Like you don't matter."

Harry's breath caught in his throat, but he stayed perfectly still, unsure if Draco knew he was awake. The last thing he wanted to do was interrupt whatever this was.

"I shouldn't care," Draco continued, his tone shifting to something more vulnerable. "But I do. I can't stop thinking about you, and it's driving me mad."

Harry's heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing as Draco's words sunk in. Draco was talking about him? He had to be. They were the only two people at the table, after all. But why? Why was Draco confessing this now, when he thought Harry was asleep?

Draco let out a quiet sigh, his voice softening even more. "It's ridiculous, really. The great Harry Potter, sitting across from me, and I'm too much of a coward to say anything. I'm too scared to admit that I..."

He trailed off, and Harry's pulse quickened, waiting for the words that Draco seemed so hesitant to say.

"I like you," Draco finally whispered, his voice barely audible. "I've liked you for months now, and I don't know what to do about it."

Harry's heart practically stopped. Draco liked him? Draco Malfoy-the same Draco Malfoy who had once been his rival, his enemy-liked him?

Harry's mind whirled with a thousand thoughts, his chest tightening with something between disbelief and hope. Draco, who had been sharing a table with him for months, who had become a constant in his day-to-day life, had feelings for him.

"I thought maybe you felt something too," Draco continued, his voice quieter now, almost as if he were talking to himself. "But every time I think I've figured it out, you do something that makes me second-guess everything. I keep hoping... but maybe it's hopeless."

Draco let out a soft, bitter laugh. "Merlin, I'm pathetic."

Harry's chest tightened. He wanted to sit up, to say something, to tell Draco that he wasn't pathetic, that he wasn't imagining things, that maybe-just maybe-Harry felt something too. But he didn't know how to do that without completely shattering the moment.

Instead, he shifted slightly, pretending to wake up slowly, hoping Draco would stop before he said something even more vulnerable.

Draco immediately went silent, and Harry could feel the shift in the air as Draco straightened in his chair, clearly trying to act as if nothing had happened.

Harry blinked sleepily, lifting his head from his arms and rubbing his eyes. "Sorry," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "Didn't mean to fall asleep."

Draco cleared his throat, his voice unusually tight. "It's fine."

Harry glanced at Draco, who was now pointedly staring down at his book, his face flushed and his posture stiff. It was obvious he was embarrassed, and Harry felt a pang of guilt. Draco thought Harry hadn't heard him, but now that Harry knew the truth, he didn't know what to do with it.

But he had to do something.

"Draco," Harry said softly, his heart pounding as he spoke. "Can I... ask you something?"

Draco looked up at him, his eyes guarded. "What?"

Harry hesitated, his stomach twisting with nerves. "What would you do if I said I felt the same?"

Draco's eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked completely stunned. "What?"

Harry's heart was racing now, and he could feel his cheeks heating up, but he pressed on. "If I said that I... that I liked you too. What would you say?"

Draco stared at him, his expression a mix of disbelief and confusion. "Are you saying that because you mean it, or because you feel bad for me?"

Harry shook his head quickly, his voice steady despite the nerves coursing through him. "I mean it. I've been wanting to tell you for a while now, but I didn't know how. And... I wasn't sure how you felt."

Draco's lips parted slightly, his silver eyes searching Harry's face for any sign of a lie. When he found none, his expression softened into something more vulnerable, more open than Harry had ever seen.

"You... like me?" Draco asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Harry nodded, feeling a strange sense of relief wash over him. "Yeah. I do."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The library around them was quiet, the soft rustle of pages and distant murmurs of other students the only sound. But in that moment, it felt like it was just the two of them, sitting across from each other with everything out in the open.

Draco let out a shaky breath, his lips twitching into a small, tentative smile. "You really are full of surprises, Potter."

Harry chuckled softly, his heart swelling with warmth. "I could say the same about you."

Draco glanced down at his hands for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts, before looking back up at Harry with a new kind of determination in his eyes. "So... what do we do now?"

Harry smiled, feeling a weight lift off his chest as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "I guess we start by admitting that we like each other."

Draco's smile widened slightly, and Harry couldn't help but notice how much softer Draco looked when he smiled like that, without any of the usual bravado or sarcasm.

"I think I can handle that," Draco said quietly, his voice warm.

And as they sat there, the air between them filled with a newfound sense of understanding, Harry realized that maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something he hadn't even known he was hoping for.

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