Harry Potter One Shots

Pining Prats

Pansy sat down with a sigh, her voice sounding close to his ear as she whispered dramatically, "Do you need me to kill someone for you?"

Draco huffed at her and took a gulp from his mug of coffee. It was bitter, he'd forgotten the sugar again. He didn't bother to fix it though, he didn't really care. He just set the mug on the side and looked at his best mate tiredly. "It's nothing, Pans, just leave it," he huffed, but of course, being the nosy little bitch that she is, Pansy did not just leave it. Instead she scooted closer so that her bent knees were leaning against Draco's own legs, which where dangling awkwardly off the side of his bed. She fixed him with that look and asked knowingly, "It's Potter, isn't it?"

Draco groaned at her and hid his face in his hands because of course it was Potter, it was always Potter. Potter and his bloody ginger probably-girlfriend and his bloody ginger best friend and his bloody not-ginger self. It was always Potter at the centre of Draco's woes and even more so because the guy was an oblivious prat. "Oh darling, what did he do this time?" Pansy asked, though she needn't have to, because Draco was already rambling about this morning's incident.

"Toast, Pansy! He made me toast!" he exclaimed exasperatedly after his ranting. She patted him on the shoulder in a way that was supposedly comforting, but served as more of an irritation. "Yes, Draco, a sign of undeniable true love," she muttered dismissively, "Now it's Cucumberpatch night and I know you hid some beers, there's sweet and salt in my bag, so you get the cans and I'll put Sherlock on."

He smiled gratefully at her and headed to the kitchen. Despite how terrible she may be at times, she always knew how to deal with one of Draco's 'Potter Episodes' as she so often calls them.

Draco doesn't really hate Potter, quite the opposite in fact. He just hates that Potter makes him feel like that. Because no matter how hard he tries, Draco cannot get over this insane crush on his obviously-probably-hopefully-not straight University roommate. As he grabs the booze from the top of the fridge, he can't help but remember that morning.

Potter just shows up after his morning lecture, hair still slightly damp from his early shower, cheeks flushed from the biting winter breeze, glasses slightly crooked and two plates of toast balanced on top of each other. Draco, who was still in his pyjamas at the time and not writing to essay he should have been, had mumbled some confused gratitude as Potter had stumbled through an explanation, handing Draco a plate and grabbing his books quickly before leaving the bewildered boy alone with his toast.

Draco denied having spent the whole morning post-'Toast Incident' going over the details and why exactly it had happened at all and what it meant, because he had most certainly been writing that essay that still lay unfinished on his desk.

Shaking his head of all thoughts somewhat Potter related, Draco returned to his dorm room, booze in hand, determined that Bendlepick Christmascracker would distract him.

When he returned, Pansy had her back to the abundance of cushions on his bed and was fiddling about with Draco's laptop. She looked up when he closed the door behind him and shuffled over to give him room when he flopped down beside her. She held out a hand in waiting, deep in the task of mastering technology, and Draco passed her a can, keeping one for himself and leaving the rest on the floor.

Draco sighed, flinging himself back on the pile of cushions, "I'm a fucking mess." Pansy looked at him sympathetically and said, "Yeah...but look on the bright side!" He glared at her incredulously as she proceeded to explain how positively amazingly lucky he was to have her. The narcissistic prick then put on Sherlock and shoved popcorn in his face before Draco could complain that that wasn't proper advice, and he promptly shut up.