One shots

Drarry - After Midnight

The halls of Hogwarts were eerily quiet after midnight, the faint glow of the moon filtering through the high windows, casting long shadows along the stone corridors. Harry Potter walked silently, his footsteps barely audible as he moved deeper into the castle, his heart racing for reasons he didn't want to admit.

He wasn't sure what had brought him out tonight. Or rather, he didn't want to say it aloud—not even to himself. The truth had been simmering beneath the surface for months now, ever since the war had ended. Ever since he had started looking at Draco Malfoy differently.

After everything that had happened between them, Harry never imagined he'd care about Draco's life after the war. But watching him—alone, quiet, burdened by his past—something had shifted. A strange, unspoken connection had begun to form. And tonight, that pull had been too strong to ignore.

Rounding a corner, Harry's breath caught as he spotted a familiar figure leaning against the window, bathed in silver moonlight. Draco Malfoy. His platinum hair looked like ice in the dim light, his face turned toward the sky. He didn't seem surprised when Harry approached, as though he had been expecting him all along.

"Couldn't sleep, Potter?" Draco's voice was soft, his usual sharpness absent.

Harry swallowed, his throat dry. "Yeah. You?"

Draco's lips quirked in a bitter smile. "I'm not much of a sleeper these days."

Silence hung between them for a moment. Harry could hear the faint rustling of the trees outside, but it felt distant—like the world had shrunk to just the two of them in this shadowed corner of the castle. He had no idea what to say, but he couldn't bring himself to leave either.

"Why are you here?" Draco finally asked, turning to face Harry, his pale eyes searching his.

"I—" Harry started, but the words caught in his throat. The truth was complicated, messy. How could he explain what he was feeling when he barely understood it himself?

Draco's gaze didn't waver, and for the first time, Harry saw something in his expression that mirrored his own confusion. The same guarded walls, the same unsaid things.

Harry took a step closer, his pulse quickening. "I don't know. I just... keep thinking about you."

Draco stiffened slightly, his face flickering with something like surprise, but then his expression softened. "Why?"

It wasn't a challenge. There was no malice in Draco's voice, only quiet curiosity, as if he didn't quite believe Harry's answer would matter.

But it did.

"I don't know," Harry repeated, his voice quieter now. He looked away, ashamed at how vulnerable he felt standing in front of the boy who had once been his greatest rival. "Maybe because... you're the only one who understands what it's like. To carry everything. To try and be someone else after the war."

Draco's expression faltered, his mask slipping. "It doesn't get any easier, does it?"

"No," Harry said softly. "But... I thought maybe we didn't have to do it alone."

There was a silence, heavy but not uncomfortable, as if the weight of years had finally lifted. Draco looked at Harry with something new in his eyes—something that wasn't hatred or indifference.

Without thinking, Harry reached out, his fingers brushing against Draco's wrist, hesitant but certain. Draco didn't pull away. Instead, he turned his hand so their fingers could entwine, the contact so simple yet electric.

Draco's voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. "And what now, Potter?"

Harry stepped closer, the space between them evaporating. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, but for once, he wasn't afraid of it. "We figure it out. Together."

Draco's breath hitched, and for a moment, they just stood there, suspended in the quiet between words. Then, slowly, Draco closed the distance between them, their foreheads resting against one another, their breaths mingling in the cool night air.

It wasn't a kiss, not yet. But it was something. Something more than all the words they had never said.