Drarry AI Oneshots

Flirting Wars

Harry Potter had spent years bickering with Draco Malfoy. It was practically their thing-a dynamic that seemed unshakable. But as the eighth year at Hogwarts began, something strange happened. The fighting didn't stop, but it took on a different tone. Somewhere along the way, their sharp barbs had become... softer. And the smirks that accompanied them lingered just a little too long.

Harry wasn't entirely sure when it had started. Maybe it was the morning in the Great Hall when Draco, instead of tossing some thinly veiled insult his way, had winked at Harry from across the table. Or maybe it was the time Harry had muttered a retort about Draco's over-the-top hair routine, only for Draco to flip his hair and ask, "Jealous, Potter?"

Regardless of when it started, one thing was for sure: Draco Malfoy had been flirting with Harry, and Harry had been flirting back.

The problem was, Harry wasn't sure if it was real.

It had been happening for weeks now-this strange back-and-forth between them that looked like arguing to everyone else, but felt like something entirely different when it was just the two of them. Every conversation seemed to have an undertone of something more, something charged with an intensity that left Harry feeling flustered, but weirdly excited, whenever Draco was around.

Take today, for example. They had been assigned to work together in Potions-much to the amusement of their classmates and the exasperation of Professor Slughorn. Harry had fully expected them to fall into their usual bickering routine, but instead, Draco had leaned in close, his voice low and teasing.

"You know, Potter," Draco had drawled, his eyes flicking over Harry in a way that made Harry's stomach flip, "if you wanted to spend more time with me, you could have just asked. No need to sabotage our potion."

Harry had sputtered, caught off guard by the comment. "I-what? I didn't sabotage anything!"

Draco had simply smirked, his gaze lingering on Harry a moment too long before turning back to the cauldron. "Of course you didn't," he'd murmured, his voice full of mock innocence. "But I've noticed how flustered you get when we're alone together. No need to be shy, Potter."

Harry's face had turned bright red, and he'd barely managed to stammer a reply. But even then, he couldn't help but fire back. "I'm not the one who gets flustered, Malfoy. Maybe you should check yourself."

Draco had only smiled in that infuriating, knowing way that made Harry's heart pound and his palms sweat.

And that was how it went. Every day. Back-and-forth banter, playful jabs that seemed to carry more weight than they should have, and lingering glances that made Harry's head spin.

Was this just a game to Draco? Some kind of elaborate joke? Or was there something real beneath all the teasing?

Later that afternoon, Harry found himself in the library, attempting to focus on his Charms homework but failing miserably. His thoughts kept drifting back to Draco and their latest interaction. There was something different about it. Something that felt... more deliberate. But what if he was reading too much into it?

His thoughts were interrupted by the familiar sound of someone sliding into the seat across from him.

"Potter," came Draco's smooth voice, and Harry's heart did an unintentional flip.

Speak of the devil.

Harry looked up, and there was Draco, smirking as usual, his silver eyes gleaming with amusement. "Busy with your homework, or are you just thinking about me?"

Harry rolled his eyes, trying to suppress the flush creeping up his neck. "Not everything's about you, Malfoy."

Draco raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "Really? Because the way you've been looking at me lately suggests otherwise."

Harry blinked, his heart skipping a beat. Was Draco joking? Or was he actually being serious?

"I don't look at you," Harry muttered, turning his attention back to his homework, though he could feel Draco's eyes on him.

"Sure you don't," Draco said softly, leaning forward across the table. "It's not like I've noticed you staring at me in class. Or in the corridors. Or during meals."

Harry's head snapped up, his face burning. "I don't-"

"Relax, Potter," Draco interrupted, his smirk widening. "I'm flattered, really."

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but no words came out. This was all part of the game, right? Just Draco being Draco-teasing him like always. Except now, it didn't feel like a game anymore. It felt like something else. Something that made Harry's pulse race and his thoughts jumble together in a confusing mess.

"Why do you do that?" Harry blurted out before he could stop himself.

Draco tilted his head, feigning innocence. "Do what?"

"You know what," Harry muttered, his voice quieter now. "Flirt with me. Are you just trying to mess with me, or..."

Draco's smirk faltered for a split second, and something flickered in his eyes-something almost vulnerable. But then it was gone, replaced by his usual mask of indifference.

"What makes you think I'm messing with you?" Draco asked, his voice softer than usual.

Harry stared at him, searching for any hint of what Draco was really thinking. "Because it's what you do," Harry said quietly. "You always mess with me."

Draco didn't respond immediately. He leaned back in his chair, studying Harry with a strange intensity that made Harry's heart pound even harder.

"What if I'm not messing with you?" Draco asked after a moment, his voice barely above a whisper.

Harry's breath caught in his throat. He hadn't expected that.

"What if," Draco continued, his eyes locking onto Harry's, "this isn't just some game to me?"

Harry's mind raced, trying to process what Draco was saying. Was this real? Was Draco actually admitting that there was something more to their flirting?

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, his voice unsteady.

Draco hesitated for a moment, his expression conflicted. Then, slowly, he leaned forward again, his eyes never leaving Harry's.

"I mean," Draco said quietly, "maybe I've been trying to figure it out too. Whether this is real. Whether we're just... bantering or if there's something else going on."

Harry stared at him, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't know what to say. All this time, he had been trying to make sense of the strange, flirty dynamic between them, unsure if it was real or just another layer of their rivalry. But now, hearing Draco admit that he was just as confused, just as uncertain-it made something click in Harry's mind.

This wasn't just a game. It wasn't just harmless flirting. There was something more between them-something they had both been dancing around for weeks, maybe months.

"So... what do we do now?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Draco smiled, a real smile this time-not a smirk, but something softer, more genuine. "I don't know," he admitted. "But maybe we could start by finding out if it's real."

Harry's breath caught in his throat, and before he could respond, Draco leaned in even closer, his face just inches away from Harry's.

"Unless, of course," Draco murmured, his lips curling into a playful smile, "you're too scared, Potter."

Harry's heart raced, and despite the nerves twisting in his stomach, he couldn't help but grin back.

"Me? Scared of you?" Harry teased, his voice steadying. "Never."

Draco's smile widened, and in that moment, everything seemed to fall into place. This wasn't just flirting anymore. This was real.

"Well then," Draco said softly, his eyes glinting with amusement, "I guess we'll just have to see where this goes."

And as they sat there, the unspoken tension between them finally shifting into something real, Harry couldn't help but feel that, whatever happened next, they were finally on the same page.

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

4o