Drarry AI Oneshots

Sleep-Talking Confessions

It was late, and the quiet hum of the Hogwarts dormitory was usually enough to lull Harry Potter to sleep. Normally, the sound of Draco Malfoy's deep, even breathing from the other side of the room would have been an odd source of comfort-something steady in the quiet darkness of their eighth-year dormitory.

But tonight, Draco wasn't just breathing.

Harry had been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, half-asleep, when he heard it-a faint mumble from Draco's bed. At first, Harry had ignored it, assuming Draco was just mumbling in his sleep as usual. But the words kept coming, growing louder and clearer, and when Harry finally focused on what Draco was saying, his heart nearly stopped.

"Harry..." Draco muttered, his voice low and thick with sleep.

Harry froze. Had he just said my name?

He blinked, his body tense as he strained to hear more, wondering if he had imagined it. But then, Draco's voice came again, this time a little louder, and Harry's stomach flipped at the sound.

"Mm... so good..."

Harry's face flushed, and his heart started pounding in his chest. Wait. Is he... dreaming about me?

He lay there, completely still, his mind racing as Draco continued to mumble incoherently. Harry couldn't make out all the words, but the tone of Draco's voice-low, breathy, almost needy-was unmistakable. And it was all directed at him.

"Harry..."

There it was again, unmistakable this time. Draco was having a dream about him-and not just any dream.

Harry's face burned with embarrassment as the realization hit him. Draco is having a wet dream about me.

Harry didn't know what to do. His mind raced with a thousand thoughts, all of them spinning out of control. He could barely process the fact that Draco-Draco Malfoy-was dreaming about him, let alone in that way.

He wanted to move, to get up and leave the room, but his body felt frozen, rooted to the spot by a mix of shock and... something else. He wasn't sure what it was, but it made his stomach twist, made his heart beat faster in a way that had nothing to do with embarrassment.

"Harry..." Draco moaned softly, his voice trailing off into something incoherent again.

Harry's breath hitched in his throat. Merlin, what is happening?

He didn't know how to handle this. Part of him felt like he should confront Draco-wake him up, stop whatever was happening before it got worse. But another part of him-the part that was making his pulse race and his skin feel too warm-didn't know how to face Draco after hearing this.

Because this wasn't just some random sleep talk. This was... this was Draco wanting him. Dreaming about him in ways that Harry had never imagined.

Or... had he?

Harry's face flushed even deeper at the thought. He hadn't allowed himself to think about Draco like that before-at least, not consciously. Sure, they'd spent most of the year sharing a dorm room, gradually falling into a strange, almost comfortable routine. They weren't exactly friends, but they weren't enemies anymore either. And Harry had noticed, on more than one occasion, that Draco had a certain... effect on him. But he had always pushed those thoughts away, refusing to acknowledge what they might mean.

Until now.

Draco's voice broke through Harry's spiraling thoughts again, this time even softer, barely a whisper. "Please... Harry..."

Harry's breath caught in his throat. This is real. Draco was dreaming about him-dreaming about them, about something happening between them-and Harry had no idea what to do with that information.

He couldn't confront Draco. Not like this. He could barely process it himself, let alone bring it up with Draco. How was he supposed to look Draco in the eye after hearing this?

But then... maybe he didn't have to.

Harry lay there for what felt like hours, his mind racing, until Draco finally quieted down, the mumbles fading into soft breathing as he slipped into a deeper, quieter sleep. Harry's heart was still pounding, but the room was calm again, and he could finally think clearly-at least, a little.

What did this mean? Did Draco actually have feelings for him? Or was it just some strange, random dream that didn't mean anything?

Harry didn't know. But what he did know was that this changed things. It changed the way he saw Draco, the way he felt around him. And maybe... maybe it changed something between them, too.

But for now, Harry wasn't ready to confront it. He wasn't ready to confront Draco, or the feelings that had suddenly surfaced in his own chest. So, instead, he closed his eyes, forcing himself to take deep, steady breaths as he tried to calm the storm in his mind.

Tomorrow would be another day. And maybe, just maybe, he'd find the courage to face whatever this was.