Harry Potter Oneshots From Every Era

Fight

HarryxDraco

As soon as Hermione walked into the room she knew leaving Harry and Malfoy alone was a bad idea.

The carpets had been ripped up, the sofas were burnt and overturned, the wallpaper was peeling and there was multiple scorch marks on the walls form missed curses and anything remotely breakable was smashed to pieces. Paired with the shocked gasp from Ron behind her, Hermione's heart almost stopped.

After a few seconds of standing in shock, Hermione glanced at Ron, and immediately began following the obvious path of cracked and burnt floor all the way up the stairs. Even on her ascent she could see the seemingly endless features of a heated fight.

There was chips in the stairs, the carpet was black and singed, and the dirty black walls were falling apart more than usual.

Ever since Malfoy and switched sides and joined the order, he and Harry had often been left in the house for short periods of time, as both of them were in the most danger. Whenever they had started a fight, however, there had always been someone to break them up. Not this time.

Hermione and Ron, who had left to buy some nicer food at the shop (Which had been closed at the time, unfortunately), had hoped they were mature enough to calm themselves down, but judging by the state of the house they had been severely wrong.

She could hear the soft, quiet steps of Ron behind her, apparently still in shock. The trail of destruction carried on all the way down the corridor, up another set of stairs, and a couple of left turns, down a short set of stairs, and straight into a room Hermione didn't even know was there.

Her eyes flicked back to the worried face of Ron, and knew they were wondering what state they were about to find their best friend. With a gentle push, the door creaked open. Hermione was braced for the impact of two fully unconscious boys, perhaps even a dead one, but what she saw was far from that.

The room was apparently an old, unused bedroom with one large four poster, a dusty set of drawers and a tiny, crusty window that you could no longer see through.

Against the bottom right pole of the bed was Harry, his hands tied by a delicate silk material which was holding him in a half standing, half sitting position. In front of him was Malfoy, who was leaning right over him, his hands on resting on the bed either side of Harry.

Now, the thing that confused Hermione the most was the fact that their lips were pressed together, and were actively moving against each other.

Their faces were bruised, bloody and dirty, make no mistake, but the quiet groans coming from the pair of them were anything but violent. Then she noticed something else.

Malfoy's knee was pressed quite forcefully between Harry's, and was rolling in gentle circles. Harry arched suddenly into Malfoy, pressing himself as close as he could. Mesmerised and in horror, Hermione couldn't find the strength to do anything but stare in shock, but Ron had different ideas.

With a loud 'What the fuck?', He managed to successfully break them apart. Draco flew backwards as though a white hot poker had been pressed into his chest and Harry immediately pushed himself as far into the bed pole as he could. The pair of them sat, panting, for a long while before Malfoy finally stood up and stumbled out of the door on shaking legs, brushing past Ron as hard as he could.

'Harry!' Hermione's voice was no more than a whisper, but the obvious shock and repulsion in her voice struck Harry like physical pain. 'Y-yeah?' He muttered back, pulling weakly at the bind holding his hands to the bedpost. Damn, Malfoy had known what he was doing when he conjured that.

Hermione walked unsurely over to him, leaving Ron looking thoroughly horrified in the doorway. 'Explain.' Her voice was firm but kind, and Harry relaxed. He had been completely expected a slap, or even a hex, but he was greeted with nothing but a calm questioning gaze. Mentally slapping himself, he wondered why Hermione would have suddenly became a violent psychopath. He pulled again on the black silk, looking pleadingly at Hermione who glanced up, then shook her head.

'You're not running away without an explanation, Harry.' Ron chuckled quietly from the doorway, apparently over the initial shock. Harry felt his cheeks heat up at the vulnerable and uncomfortable position he was left in.

He hadn't noticed how uncomfortable his position had been when he had been kissing Malfoy. Actually, he hadn't really been thinking about anything other than Malfoy himself when they'd been kissing. It had been... Amazing. Suddenly feeling his senses sparking up again, he looked back up to Hermione resignedly.

'Well, we were fighting, like arguing, and, uh, i punched him, and he got his, um, wand-' Harry paused, feeling his face burn just thinking about his wand. 'And we started throwing hexes, and all that, and, um, we slowly moved up the stairs, and i knocked him into the room with a Trip Jinx and i fell in after him, and...' His voice faded for a second, the memories fresh in his mind.

He had walked forwards, his wand pointed threateningly into Malfoy's face, and Malfoy had smirked. The most irritating smirk in the world, and Harry had slapped him. Slapped it right off his face. Still recovering from the hit, Malfoy staggered forwards blindly, knocking Harry into the bedpost and tied his hands, leaving Harry feeling worryingly trapped and helpless. He kept his wand tight in his hand however, even as Malfoy crawled forwards towards him, showing Harry in shocking clearness the cut on his lip and the blood that was swiped across his chin. The way his left cheek was steadily turning more and more red. The way he had one bruised eye, and the was his eyes changed from unadulterated hate to... something else. Something that, oddly turned him on.

He was brought back to reality by a hand waving furiously in his face, a worried Hermione and a confused and bemused looking Ron. He blinked a few times, and carried on with his story his voice wavering slightly.

'W-well i slapped him, and, um, he pushed me into the side of the bed,' He hesitated. 'It hurt like a bitch.' He heard Ron snicker in the corner, (Where he had returned to when he realised Harry hadn't, in fact, died) and Hermione huff furiously.

'Then he tied my hands up and, well, you know...' He faded into red faced silence, staring unblinkingly at his shoes. They didn't actually know what had happened straight after that, but that wasn't a particularly important part of the story.

In reality, it had consisted of Malfoy trailing his fingers lightly over Harry's entire being until he was positively begging for something more, which Malfoy gladly gave in the form of a rough and desperate kiss. That was, fortunately, something Ron and Hermione had not thought to ask about, and Harry found his arms dropping to his sides.

Hermione lowered her wand and nodded dismissively. Harry ran from the room as fast as his legs would carry him, which wasn't all that quick because of the way he had been sitting/standing for the last god- knows- how- long.

As soon as he was out of the door he heard a quiet mutter. 'He's obviously not telling the truth, but it's better than nothing.' He took a deep breath, and began walking back to the sitting room, marvelling at the mess he had neglected to notice in the heat of a fight.

Once he reached the sitting room he found it blissfully empty. Even as he sat down in the much needed silence, he couldn't help but wonder what would be happening if Malfoy was there too.