Drarry AI Oneshots

A Misunderstood Invitation

Harry Potter wasn't one to get nervous easily, but standing in front of Draco Malfoy's dorm room, he could feel his stomach doing somersaults. It was their eighth year, and the Yule Ball was fast approaching-a dance that, to Harry's dismay, seemed to be all anyone could talk about.

Harry had been thinking about asking Draco for weeks now. He didn't know when exactly his feelings for Draco had shifted from rivalry to... whatever this was, but they had. The more they spent time together, the more Harry found himself drawn to the way Draco would quietly study by the fire, or the subtle smirks that softened into smiles when no one else was around.

So here he was, heart pounding, finally ready to do something about it.

He knocked lightly on the door, half-hoping Draco wouldn't hear it. But the door opened a moment later, and there Draco stood, his silver eyes meeting Harry's with a slight look of surprise.

"Potter?" Draco said, leaning against the doorframe. "What brings you here?"

Harry swallowed hard, feeling his throat go dry. "Uh, hey. I was just, you know... wondering about the dance."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "The Yule Ball?"

"Yeah," Harry muttered, shifting awkwardly. "I, um, I don't have anyone to go with. Thought maybe I'd see if you..."

He trailed off, his courage faltering as he tried to find the right words. Why was this so hard? He could face Dark Lords and dragons, but asking Draco Malfoy to a dance? Impossible.

Draco, however, seemed to misunderstand Harry's hesitation. His face lit up, as if he'd just had the best idea in the world. "Oh, I see! You need help finding a date, don't you?"

Harry blinked. "Wait, what?"

Draco smirked, clearly pleased with himself. "Of course! You don't have anyone to go with, and you've come to me for assistance. How very Gryffindor of you."

"No, that's not what I-"

"Don't worry, Potter," Draco interrupted, waving off Harry's protest with a flick of his hand. "I've got just the person for you. Pansy. She'll go with you, no problem."

Harry's stomach dropped. "Pansy?"

Draco nodded, looking quite satisfied with his solution. "Yes, Pansy. She's been complaining that she doesn't have a proper date, and I'm sure she'd love to go with you. I'll set it up."

Before Harry could argue, Draco clapped him on the shoulder with a smug grin. "No need to thank me, Potter. I'll talk to her. You'll have your date sorted in no time."

And with that, Draco disappeared back into his room, leaving Harry standing there, completely dumbfounded.

The night of the Yule Ball arrived, and Harry found himself standing outside the Great Hall with Pansy Parkinson, dressed in his formal robes and feeling more awkward than he ever had in his life. It wasn't that Pansy was unpleasant-she was actually being quite kind-but this was not how he had imagined things going.

"Relax, Potter," Pansy said, nudging him playfully. "I don't bite."

Harry chuckled nervously, glancing over at her. "Sorry. I'm just... I didn't really mean to ask you to the dance."

Pansy raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And who did you mean to ask?"

Harry hesitated, unsure if he should say anything, but Pansy's knowing smirk told him she already had an idea.

"Let me guess," she said, her voice teasing. "You wanted to ask Draco, didn't you?"

Harry's face flushed. "What? No, I-"