Drarry Oneshots

Naturally Perfect

"Malfoy!" Harry shouted. "Hurry up! McGonagall won't let us leave until everyone's ready!"

"Hold on, Potter. You think this hair looks naturally perfect?"

"Yes," Harry muttered.

When Draco still didn't appear at the door, Harry sighed. "I'm coming in there. Are you decent?"

"Not morally, but I'm wearing pants if that's what you're asking."

Harry's face flamed, and he waited a moment for it to cool before he opened the door, and had to stifle a gasp.

Draco was shirtless on his bed, a book on him perfect pale abs.

Harry forced himself to breathe. "Malfoy! Why aren't you getting ready?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's called being fashionably late, Potter."

"Fashionably late is twenty minutes late?"

Draco snorted. "Don't be ridiculous." Then he glanced at his clock, which told him he was, indeed, twenty minutes late.

"Shit!" Draco jumped up, and his book fell to the ground, and Harry would have laughed if he hadn't been gaping at Draco's abs.

He admired the care Draco put in picking his book up and sliding a bookmark into it. Then he rushed to put a shirt on.

"I lost track of time- I was reading my book and I just- I didn't know- Why am I even telling you this?"

Harry shrugged and watched as Draco's messy blonde hair fell around his face as he bent to grab his shirt and put it on. He went to the bathroom to put his gel in his hair.

"Wait."

Draco stopped, and turned to Harry. "What?"

Harry stepped closer, and on impulse, ran his fingers through Draco's hair.

"It's really soft," he said in wonder.

Draco simply stared at him.

"Keep is messy. It looks good."

Draco snorted. "Yeah. I'll leave my hair messy when you let me style that mop of black you call hair."

Harry shrugged. "Alright."

Draco gaped at him. "Seriously?"

Harry grinned. "Hey you look really good with messy hair. I want that to stay."

"Why?"

Shit.

"So you don't look so pointy." Harry brushed a lock away from Draco's face. "It's kinda hot."

Draco's eyes flew open wide as Harry realized his mistake. "You think I'm hot?!"

"I meant the hairstyle."

"Oh." Draco gestured in front of him. "Stand here."

Harry stood in front of him and closed his eyes.

"No way."

Harry's eyes opened. "What?"

Draco looked very distressed. "You're taller than me."

Harry let out a short laugh. "Whatever, Shorty."

"Don't call me Shorty. Why are you closing your eyes?"

"I don't want to see it until it's done."

"But for all you know, I could cut off your hair and you wouldn't know."

Harry shrugged. "I trust you. I'll take that chance."

Five minutes later, Draco's hands moved away form Harry's hair, and Harry immediately missed the feel. He opened his eyes. "Holy shit!"

His hair was styled into messy spikes with gel and it looked hot.

He turned to Draco. "This is amazing!"

Draco smiled. "Of course. I did it. Let's go. We have a ball to attend."

They walked downstairs, and an equal amount of eyes fell on them each.

Pansy ran up to Draco and ran her fingers through his hair. "You look hot!"

He glared at her and leaned away. "Don't touch my hair. And don't call me hot."

Harry smirked at him. "You didn't have a problem when I did it."

Pansy screeched "WHAT?!", and Draco turned bright red.

Harry turned to Hermione and Ron.

"Your hair looks awesome dude," Ron said, grinning.

"You look bloody hot!" Hermione shouted. "How did you do that?"

Harry shrugged, smiling. "I didn't. Draco did."

"'DRACO?!?'" they shouted together.

Harry just smiled.

"Alright, Eighth Years, let's go," McGonagall said, looking slightly irritated.

They arrived at the Remembrance Ball, which was held in memory of the Battle of Hogwarts.

Harry got himself a drink, and Hermione and Ron ran off to dance.

"You got ditched too?"

Harry turned to Draco, who gestured to Pansy and Blaise dancing.

"Yeah. Some friends."

Draco snorted.

"Shame," Harry said, his heart pounding. "I love to dance. But there's no one who will dance with me unless they just want to be seen dancing with the Boy Who Lived."

Draco turned to him. Harry's heart pounded louder. "Too bad I don't want to dance with the Boy Who Lived."

Harry's heart crashed and burned.

Draco set down his drink, and took Harry's and set it down too. "I want to dance with Harry."

Harry smiled shyly as Draco took his hand and led him to the darkened dance floor. He pulled him close.

As they swayed to the slow music together, Draco whispered, "You know why I'm okay with you touching my hair?"

Harry shook his head. "No. Why?"

"Probably the same reason I let you call me hot."

"I didn't call you hot-"

"And the reason I tried to get your attention at every opportunity for six years."

"You what?"

"And why I wanted to be your friend when I met you."

"Draco, just tell-"

Draco cut him off by pressing his soft lips to Harry's.

When he pulled away, he whispered, "That's why."

Harry stood in shock for ten seconds, long enough for Draco's expression to go from shy to confused to worried.

Draco started to pull away, but Harry tugged him forward and kissed him again.

Draco broke away. "This isn't because you feel bad for me right?"

"Shut up and kiss me, Draco."

And kiss him Draco did, under the dim lights of the Great Hall's starry ceiling.