Oneshots.

the lavatary (drarry)

in which what happened between harry potter and draco malfoy in the lavatary that day wasn't what everyone previously believed

I couldn't help myself honestly. It's not my best but it was just a fun thing I kind of wanted to try.

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Harry pushed open the lavatory door. He heard the sink and the muffled sound of loud, distressed sobbing.

Must be a homesick first year.

Harry peeked around the corner, it wasn't a first year he saw.

Messy white hair and silver eyes. The boy ran his hands through his hair, rubbed his face. He glanced into his reflection as if he didn't recognize who was staring back.

Harry hardly recognized him either.

Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy was crying. Harry had never seen that face show anything but a displeased scowl or a cocky smirk. And there he was. Harry felt frozen in place from shock.

Something inside of him told him to yell. To yell at the distressed Slytherin that had been his enemy since the young age of eleven. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, whether it was those dull eyes or that pale complexion.

Malfoy saw Harry and in a second he whipped his body around, and that cold wall came back to cover Malfoy's vulnerable state. But it was too late, Harry had already seen.

"Potter! GET OUT! GET OUT NOW!"

Harry didn't move. He couldn't somehow. He could hardly form the words to speak. When he didn't comply to the angry demand, Malfoy quickly walked towards him, and shoved him against the lavatory wall, pushing him up higher against it by his robes.

"Leave, Potter."

"I'm not going to fight you, Malfoy."

"You wouldn't be worth it." The boy retorts. "How do you manage it?" The words slip from Harry's mouth before he can hold them back.

"Manage what?" Malfoy's voice is angry and raspy but Harry can tell he's hiding the part of him that Harry just saw - the crying that was paired with the cracking of his voice.

"Manage to hide every part of you that wants to die."

"You don't know a sodding thing about me."

"We're more alike then you think."

"Not bloody likely. Don't you dare speak to me! Don't sympathize with me! Don't pretend you know a damn thing! We are not the same."

"Then why am I still pressed against the wall?"

Draco grunts, and pushes Harry onto the hard lavatory floor. Draco had previously forgotten to shut off the faucet, and the whole lavatory had began to flood. Because of this, the back of Harry's clothes were soaking wet, and so was his hair.

Malfoy pinned Harry's hands down so he couldn't budge, but neither boy knew what the next move was going to be. "You don't want me to leave as much as you think you do," Harry said. Harry didn't know much about the things he was implying, but they seemed to have a pretty big effect on Draco.

"Stop talking." Draco growled. Harry's back was still pressed down, and Draco's hands still held him captive. They were at a standstill. Things could've taken an entirely different turn, but before Harry knew what was happening, their lips were pressed together, and neither boy broke away.

There in the soaking wet lavatory floor, with what had previously been backhand remarks and snide comments, something was beginning to spark.